Commander Shepard is Easily Distracted
by Knightfall1138
Summary: Earth is burning, and Commander Shepard is the galaxy's only hope for repelling the Reaper invasion. Perfect time to catch a movie.
1. We Fight or We Die

Earth was already lost to the Reapers by the time Shepard boarded the _Normandy_, flanked on both sides by Kaidan Alenko and a support trooper. He found his balance on the loading ramp and turned around to provide Admiral Anderson some cover. Getting a better view of the scene, it was difficult to find Anderson in the chaos of it all.

"Welcome back, Shepard," Kaidan said with a nod.

"Thanks." Shepard leveled his rifle as Anderson came running up through the haze of _Normandy_'s attack run. He got in position to help his old commanding officer aboard, when the man suddenly stopped at the loading ramp.

"Shepard!" Anderson called out over the engines, the explosions—the screams.

Shepard motioned toward the ramp. "Come on!" Something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. A shuttle passed through, using the fallen buildings as cover. He saw Anderson's gaze following the craft, solemnly, but when the admiral turned back to Shepard, there was nothing but resolve behind the old man's eyes.

Shepard already knew what Anderson was about to do.

"I'm not going," the admiral said.

Shepard had no words.

"You saw those men back there," Anderson said. "There's a million more like them, and they need a leader."

Shepard wouldn't hear it. "We're in this fight together, Anderson!"

The admiral shook his head. "It's a fight we can't win. Not without help. We need every species and all their ships to even have a chance at defeating the Reapers."

Before Shepard could object, Anderson continued. "Talk to the Council. Convince them to help us."

Shepard threw his hands up, remembering the countless times the Council had done exactly _nothing_ to help them out in the past. "What if they won't listen?"

"Then make them listen! Now go! That's an order."

Shepard shook his head. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was leave Anderson here. He knew he'd be leaving his friend to die. "I don't take orders from you anymore, remember?"

The comm hissed with feedback. Joker's voice came through. _"Hey, can I close the hatch and get us out of here? We've been hovering in front of this Reaper for, like... half an hour—"_

Shepard clicked off the comm, just in time to get hit on the head by a pair of dog tags. "What the f—?"

"Consider yourself reinstated," Anderson cut in. "_Commander._"

With an intense look of annoyance, Shepard bent down and took up the dog tags. They read: _Commander John Shepard. Citadel Marketing Spokesman._

"These are the wrong dog tags," he said.

Anderson nodded with intense resolve. "You know what you have to do."

The roar of _Normandy_'s engines intensified.

"No," Shepard shouted. "I said _these are the wrong dog tags_!"

"And good luck to you, too, Shepard!" Anderson returned with a staunch salute. The admiral quickly made his way back through the debris, disappearing into the destruction the Reapers had sewn throughout the city.

Joker's voice forced its way back through the comm. _"That tears it, Shepard. I'm taking us out of here!"_

"No!" Shepard called back. "You'll go when I say so, and not a moment sooner!"

The _Normandy_ angled around until they were facing an emptied courtyard, where dozens of civilians frantically boarded military shuttles. From where he stood on the loading ramp, Shepard was able to pick out the small boy he had seen hiding in a vent earlier that day. The boy moved through the crowd, seemingly unsure of what to do or where to go. For a brief moment, he thought the kid was looking right at him.

The soldiers on the ground pointed up at something, and Shepard looked up to find a Reaper approaching, effortlessly pushing its way through the skyscrapers toward the evac shuttles. Some paneling on the front of the Reaper shifted away, revealing its primary weapon. It glowed red as it charged for an attack.

_"Holy shit!"_ Joker exclaimed. _"That Reaper's aiming for the civilians! Charging up the Thanix Cannon!"_

"Hold your fire!" Shepard ordered.

_"Wha... What! Why?"_

"You'll fire when I say so, and not a moment sooner!"

The boy on the ground fled to the nearest shuttle, clumsily making his way inside. The shuttles closed their hatches and fled into the air.

"Joker, block their path so they have to fly in front of the Reaper weapon."

_"Why the hell would I do that?"_

"Because we're gonna play a very unfortunate game of Thumb War if you don't."

There was silence over the comm. _"Goddamn you, Shepard."_

The _Normandy_ moved into position. The shuttles over-corrected, accidentally careening into the Reaper's line of sight. The weapon angled across the sky, taking out each of the shuttles in turn. Fiery debris from the boy's shuttle rained down on the courtyard.

Shepard looked away, distressed. "...This war... There was nothing we could do."

Joker gasped. _"Yes, there was, you maniac—"_

"Joker, get us offworld. We have a galaxy to recruit, and very little time to do so."

A drawn-out sigh came back. _"Aye, aye, Shepard."_

The loading ramp sealed up, and the _Normandy_ accelerated upward through the atmosphere, passing between burning chunks of the defense fleet falling back to earth. When they were clear, the FTL drives were engaged, throwing the blue curtain of hyperspace between themselves and their homeworld.

Shepard hunched over terminal, trying desperately to hail anyone from the fleet, the full weight of his mission slowly settling upon him, darkening his mind. Unifying the races of the galaxy would be their only chance at repelling the Reaper invasion.

And he was playing with time he didn't have.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Commander Shepard is Easily Distracted <strong>_

Written by: Knightfall


	2. The Very Model of an Alliance Cruiser

Shepard walked the cargo bay of the _Normandy_, checking and double checking supply stores, gear, and ammunition. They had left in such a hurry that a great deal of what they needed was left behind on the docks. From what he was seeing, they wouldn't have enough to launch any kind of extensive campaign beyond an infrequent firefight, so they'd have to return to Citadel Space sooner rather than later to resupply.

He stopped at one of the tables, taking a prolonged glance at his old N7 tactical armor. It still bore the scars of his many encounters with the Collectors, the Geth, husks. The list went on.

That time he bashed his helmet against the airlock frame and everyone laughed at him when get got on board. The dent was still there. The emotional scarring had long since scabbed over.

James Vega approached from the lift, his face red with anger, his posture threatening a fight in some form. He threw his arms up. "What the hell's going on? Where's Anderson? Where are we going?"

Shepard stood fast. "Who the hell are you?"

"Wha— What are you talking about?"

"You show up out of nowhere and expect me to know who you are and not punch you in the throat for talking to a ranking officer like that. Now, I'll ask you again: Who the hell are you?"

**[BioWare Plot Hole #23 Redacted]**

"James! James Vega! How the hell're you doing?" Shepard clapped his old friend on the shoulder. "Glad to see you made it out alive."

James ignored the pleasantries. "What the hell's going on? Where's Anderson? Where are we going?"

Shepard turned away toward the nearest console. "We're leaving."

"Leaving?"

"Yes, leaving. We're halfway to Mars, James. What did you think we were doing?"

"Taking the long way around?"

Shepard shot a look of confusion James' way and returned his attention to the console.

"What's going on?" Kaidan asked, trying to break up any semblance of a fight.

Shepard keyed through all of the Alliance military channels, only to find them all dead or carrying white noise. "Anderson wants us to go to the Citadel, get help for the fight."

"Bullshit!" James cut in. "He wouldn't order us to leave!"

"Renegade."

"What?"

"Er, I mean, you suck. And yes he did so order us to leave... _Jerk_."

Stunned silence enveloped the cargo bay. Kaidan coughed into his fist and said, "You've been out of the game awhile, Shepard, so I think you should know that was pretty bad."

Shepard cocked an eyebrow. "How bad?"

"Like... _really_ bad."

"Huh." Shepard punched James in the face, sending the soldier toppling over, unconscious. "Better?"

Kaidan shrugged. "Kinda?"

"We don't have a choice!" Shepard continued, picking up the loose thread. "Without help, this war's already over."

Joker's voice crackled through the intercom. _"Commander."_

"Joker... is that you?"

_"Commander, we just talked like two minutes ago. How would there be any question...?"_

"Thumb War."

_"Got an emergency transmission from Admiral Hackett for you."_

"Is it important?"

_"I did say 'emergency' transmission, right? Can you hear me okay through this thing?"_

"I'll take the call in my quarters." Shepard took the lift up to the Captain's Cabin, unsure of the news Admiral Hackett would have. Just knowing Hackett had survived the initial attack put Shepard at ease, however slightly. He sat down at his desk and opened the channel.

Admiral Hackett appeared on the screen, though the transmission was unusually garbled. _"Shepard... sustained heavy loses... force was overwhelming... There's no way we can defeat them conventionally."_

"Sir, why is there so much interference? I was getting calls from the Council from the other side of the galaxy and their holograms were practically high definition. What's going on here?"

_"...makes for... dramatics... tension... Also, someone... using the microwave..."_

"Ah. Anyway, Anderson's already ordered me to the Citadel to talk to the Council."

_"First, I need you... get your ass to Mars... something, something lose control of the system."_

"Yes, sir."

_"...been researching the Prothean Archives with Doctor T'soni... found a way to stop the Reapers... only way to stop them... Convenient, I know... perfectly logical explanation for it is that the..."_

The signal dropped out.

Shepard keyed the comm. "Joker, set a course for the Mars Archives. We have some _Total Recall_ jokes to make."

_"Mars? Roger that."_

"How long until we arrive?"

_"Two weeks."_

"What!"

_"I thought we were starting the jokes now."_

"No."

_"Okay, then. It'll be like ten minutes... or something."_

"You've got two."

_"I've... What?"_

"I'm heading down to the Cargo Bay now to prep the shuttle. Put us in a low orbit and keep an eye out for Reapers."

_"Roger that."_

Shepard sat back in his chair, giving himself a quick breather before he threw himself into yet another mission. Those days being locked up for that one crime might as well have been a vacation.

Wait... Why was he thrown in prison and stripped of his rank in the first place? No one really seemed to mention—

**[BioWare Plot Hole #24 Redacted]**

—that terrible mission in the Bahak System that resulted in the destruction of the Alpha Relay and the deaths of over 300,000 Batarians. It had been a horrible price to pay, but it had delayed the Reapers' invasion.

_Delayed_. And no one bothered to use that time to prepare. Now he had to risk the lives of his crew again. He could feel the weight of the entire galaxy on his shoulders. He just wasn't sure if there would be a way out this time. Maybe if this Mars thing panned out they'd—

He looked up to the glass case that used to house his starship models and found it empty.

"What the hell?"

* * *

><p><em><strong> Commander Shepard is Easily Distracted <strong>_

"The Very Model of an Alliance Cruiser"

* * *

><p>"Where are they?" Shepard barked.<p>

Joker spun around in his seat, blatantly surprised to find the commander standing over him. "Hey, Commander."

"Where are they?"

Joker shot him a sidelong glance. "Where are what?"

"My models!" Shepard's hands balled into fists. "The models I crisscrossed the galaxy to find."

"The little toy models? You didn't _crisscross the galaxy_, you bought most of those on the Citadel. On clearance. Along with that box of Drew Karpyshyn books that no one would buy."

"Anderson liked the books."

"Yeah, because he thought he was mentioned in one of them."

"Whatever." Shepard held out his hands. "Where are my models?"

"I think Anderson sold them. Or threw them away. I don't remember! They were little toys."

"Scale models," Shepard corrected. "And... I don't know. They really tied the room together."

"I guess they did. You've never let me see your new cabin since we got the _SR-2_."

Shepard took a step back. "I haven't?"

Joker shook his head, staring daggers in Shepard's direction. "Not once."

"No, I'm pretty sure I did." Another step. "I seem to remember that time when we were in orbit around Alchera..."

"You're thinking of the escape pod you threw me into on the _SR-1_... just before it exploded."

"That's interesting. You know, I died on Alchera once." Shepard turned away. "So, I have to go to Mars. We'll pick up this conversation when I get back."

Joker swiveled his chair back around to the console. "EDI, have you been to Shepard's cabin?"

_"My protocols are not anchored to one specific part of the ship. My ancillary inputs allow me to monitor everyplace at once."_

"Well, is it nice up there?"

_"I am unsure it's a wise course of action to discuss the cabin with someone who hasn't been invited inside."_

"Ah..."

_"Yeah..."_


	3. Too Many Spectres on the Dance Floor

Shepard was ready with the stretcher by the time the _Normandy_'s airlock was secured to the Citadel. Kaidan moved an arm or rolled his head every now and then, but the attack had left awful bruising around his neck and face. His heart rate had slowed significantly, as well. Shepard knew Kaidan didn't have long.

The light clicked over to green and the airlock popped open. A medical team was ready and waiting on the other side. They took up the stretcher, shoving Shepard out of the way in the exchange, and immediately rushed Kaidan through the docking bay.

A medic scanned Kaidan with an omni-tool. "He's barely got a pulse."

"Move 'em out!" another medic replied, and the team started to jog with the stretcher all the way past the C-Sec checkpoint and toward the main lift.

Shepard chased after them. "Where are you taking him!"

"Huerta Memorial. Best care on the Citadel," the medic called back just before they disappeared into the lift.

Shepard stood at the checkpoint, his mind frayed by all that had taken place on Mars. They had Liara back and most of the Prothean data, but he wondered if Kaidan had just paid the ultimate price for that victory. The Illusive Man would answer for this. For everything. Shepard would make sure of that.

James and Liara caught up to Shepard just then.

"We're not going with?" James asked.

"We need to see the Council," Liara insisted. "They have to be made aware of our findings."

Shepard righted his mind, hunching over the railing that overlooked the C-Sec motor pool. "Yeah. We could do either of those things." He bit his lip, unsure of what to do. The afterimage of the Illusive Man's presence still lingered, taunting him. "I'll go see how Kaidan's doing before we get started. The crew comes first."

"Very well," Liara replied. "I'll head up to the Council Chamber and wait for you there." She stood up on her toes and kissed Shepard on the cheek. "Take all the time you need." She moved toward the lift.

James quickly saluted Shepard. "I'll see you back on the ship, Commander." He turned away back toward the airlock.

Shepard sighed. The bureaucracy involved in dealing with the Council, seeing his crew injured: these were all things Shepard had tried to avoid. Now they stood between him and defeating the Reapers. He could already tell things were going to get worse before they got better.

No sense worrying about that now. He needed to see how Kaidan was holding up, if he'd even survived the trip down to the hospital... What was he thinking? Of course Kaidan made it. After all they had been through together, this was nothing.

He said this to himself over and over. _This was __nothing_. He still wasn't sure if he believed it.

He entered the main lift after it returned from taking Liara to the upper levels and looked down at the controls. His finger drifted down to key the Huerta Memorial button, but stopped when he saw a level that was labeled _Purgatory Bar_.

"Um..."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Commander Shepard is Easily Distracted<strong>_

"Too Many Spectres on the Dance Floor"

* * *

><p>The Purgatory Bar—which is absolutely unrelated to the Purgatory Maximum Security Prison, however awkward that is—was the newest attraction in the Presidium, built into a hollowed-out ambassador's lounge and halfway into the orphanage next door. Shepard was immediately impressed by how many people were lounging around or lined up outside. When he thought of the Presidium, he didn't think of a place with a pulse.<p>

He made it through the VIP entrance using his military credentials to skip the line, much to the crowd's chagrin. Walking past, he heard an elcor in conversation somewhere behind him say, "Frustrated Resignation: I can't believe that bouncer carded me. I totally look twenty-one."

Inside Purgatory, Shepard's senses were assaulted by the loud music and the flashing lights. Asari dancers did their thing upon hovering platforms, which was a new one, and the bar area was crowded with people from every species, either talking about what was going on with the Reapers or trying their best _not_ to talk about it.

"Yeah, my wife's still back on Earth."

"Oh, man, I'm sorry to hear about that."

"No big. I guarantee the second she gets in one of her moods, the Reapers are gonna rethink this whole invasion thing and run the hell back to space." He took a drink. "Where there's no sound."

Shepard spotted the VIP lounge that stuck out over the main dance floor far below. Sitting on a very nice couch behind the watchful eyes of a couple bodyguards was Aria T'Loak, the "Pirate Queen of Omega." He walked downstairs into the lounge very nonchalantly, not even registering with the bodyguards, who were too enthralled by the game they were playing on their omni-tools: _Farmville – Eden Prime Edition_.

"Every time I try to plant some corn, this Reaper burns everything and turns my little farmer into a husk."

"And then your husk comes into my farm and kills all of my goats. This game blows."

When Shepard finally made it to the couch, he noticed Aria talking to a C-Sec officer in very formal attire.

"So you admit you and your thugs are here illegally," the officer said, sternly.

Aria grinned. "Yes. And it only took C-Sec three weeks to figure it out."

"Three weeks? You've been here three weeks?"

"I even sent letters of guilt to the home office and Purgatory's not a registered business in any listing. I don't think I could've made my whereabouts any more obvious, short of putting a giant fucking neon sign outside my place of business... Oh, wait—_I did_."

"I don't care who you are—"

"I am Omega."

"—you're... What? You're required to go through processing like all the other refugees. Come with me." The officer pointed toward the exit.

"I don't think so." Aria gestured toward one of her bodyguards. "Sheerk, get me the asari councilor."

Sheerk sighed, still absorbed by his game. "Never name your farmer 'Jenkins.' Things always go south real damn quick."

"Sheerk!"

"Okay, okay!" The bodyguard closed out the game and pinged the councilor. A hologram of the asari appeared between Aria and the officer.

_"Greetings, Aria."_ the councilor said, standing at attention. _"Is there something you need?"_

Aria stared down the C-Sec officer, a wry smile on her face. "I'm being asked to submit to immigration processing."

_"Okay..."_ The councilor looked a bit confused. _"I think it's one form, Aria. One page. Your signature and today's date is all you're needed to fill out—"_

"Are you going to handle this? Or do I have to let everyone know about the little artifact you have back on Thessia?"

_"That... would be... unnecessary... And possibly a spoiler."_

"Then _handle this_."

The asari councilor groaned through her teeth, but did as she was told. She typed something on her console and a little green light popped up on the C-Sec officer's omni-tool. The officer cursed under her breath and stormed out of the lounge.

"It's done," the councilor snapped. "What else can I do for you?"

Aria suddenly took notice of Shepard. She resumed that mischievous look and grinned. "Commander Shepard has scheduled a meeting with you today, correct?"

_"Correct. A meeting that he's very, very late for."_

"Do me a favor and make life miserable for him. Whatever he asks of you, do the complete opposite."

Shepard cut in. "Wait, no! What I want is to save the galaxy!"

Aria shook her head. "Don't let him save the galaxy."

_"My pleasure."_ The hologram faded away.

Shepard's mouth drooped open, his eyes still focused on where the hologram had been. He turned to Aria. "_Why_?"

"Welcome back, Commander Shepard." She patted the cushion next to her. "Take a seat."

Shepard dropped onto the couch, still properly stunned. "She's not... _really_ going to mess with my mission, is she?"

"That would be a pretty stupid thing to do, wouldn't it?" When Shepard nodded, she whispered, "She's totally going to mess with your mission. Drag it out for a long time—over two discs."

"Damn..."

"Anyway, what brings you to Purgatory, Commander Shepard?"

Shepard shrugged, still pondering what Aria had just done to him. "I don't know..."

Aria nudged him on the shoulder. "Saving the galaxy again, is what it sounds like."

"I guess..." Shepard pulled himself out of his stupor. "What are _you_ doing here?"

A scowl made its way across her face. She stood and crossed her arms, looking out over Purgatory. "Cerberus stole Omega from me. The Illusive Man is now squarely on the top of my shit list." Her voice took on an edge. "He will pay for every second I've spent in this bureaucratic hellhole."

Shepard cocked an eyebrow. "Wait. The Illusive Man _stole_ Omega from you? That seems like a big deal. Why would he do that, and why haven't I heard about it?"

Aria reached into her coat and pulled out a comic book. "It's all explained in this four-part series." Shepard reached out to take it, but she pulled it back. "No, buy your own. BioWare needs to make money—"

**[BioWare Plot Hole #54 & Shameless Product Reference #2 Redacted]**

"Oh, yeah, I heard all about that," Shepard replied. "Good thing I read _Invasion_: that gripping four-part comic book adaptation. Actually hearing it from you would've been completely unnecessary and boring when I could safely experience it in comic-form, instead."

Aria nodded, hiding the comic in her coat. "Exactly."

"So, how are you going to get Omega back? I should probably help, since this is the first lead on Cerberus I've gotten and they're so blatantly connected to the Reapers in some way. Especially after what they pulled on Mars."

"I'll take back Omega one day." Aria smiled. "And that day is coming."

Shepard looked around, feeling as though he had missed something. "Well... when? I need to be there when you do."

Aria reached into her coat again and held out a box that read: _Mass Effect – Retake Omega DLC._

Shepard punched the couch. "Oh, _come on_!"

**[BioWare Plot Hole #55 & Shameless Product Reference #3 Redacted]**


	4. Shepard, MD

The lift ascended, taking Shepard directly to the Huerta Memorial Hospital in the Presidium. He wondered about Kaidan, hoping nothing terrible had happened to his friend during his little detour through Purgatory. He didn't want Alenko to go out like this. He didn't want the Illusive Man to win.

The doors slid open.

The inside of the hospital wasn't quite chaotic, but it looked like it was heading in that direction very quickly. The waiting room was nearly filled, hysterical voices rising up from the crowd, and a line had formed at the reception desk. Doubtless, the casualties from nearby systems were beginning to trickle into Citadel Space. It wouldn't be long before every clinic in the Presidium and the Wards were overcrowded.

"_Now Entering: Huerta Memorial Hospital,"_ a feminine-sounding VI informed him.

"I should hope so." Shepard stepped out of the lift.

_"I'm Commander Shepard, and this is my favorite hospital on the Citadel."_

The fervor in the room quieted and all eyes were on Shepard as he stood at the waiting room entrance. The lift doors slowly slid closed behind him.

"I, ah..." He cleared his throat a little. "As you were, people." No one moved. "...And that's an order."

The room fell back into hysterics.

"Woah." He knew it had just been good timing, but another part of him started to wonder if he really _could_ make some kind of a difference here. He was the First Human Spectre, after all. That had to count for something.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Commander Shepard is Easily Distracted <strong>_

"Shepard, M.D."

* * *

><p>The receptionist typed something into her console and shouted, "Next!" The line shifted and a young man with a cold sweat ended up at the desk. "Symptoms?"<p>

"I have a c-cough, I can't keep any food d-d-down," the young man said, his voice jittery. "And I-I-I feel like I'm s-s-standing in a f-f-freezer."

Shepard stepped forward and casually leaned against the front desk. "I can help with that."

The receptionist did a double-take. "Who are you?"

"Commander Shepard. Spectre."

"O... kay?" She pointed to the line. "If you have an ailment, Commander Shepard, I'm afraid you'll need to wait in line like everyone else."

"Lines are for the weak. You ever see a lion stand in line to snack on a gazelle or to get the drink of water that would save his life?"

"I was born on the Citadel, Commander. I've never seen a lion."

"Space-lion?"

"There is no such thing as a space-lion."

Shepard's eyes narrowed. "I bet you also thought there was no such thing as a Reaper, huh? Guess who's oh-and-one on that prediction. Not me. Not Shepard Commander." He turned to the young man, scanning him with the omni-tool. "Now, what seems to be the trouble?"

"I-I think I hav-v-ve a bad c-c-cold, s-s-sir."

"Hmm, yes, interesting, yes." Shepard pressed a few buttons at random. "Open your mouth and say 'Ah'."

The young man hesitantly obliged. "Ahhh..."

"Hm, yes, quite. Feeling any better?"

"N-n-n-no, sir."

"Okay, do me another favor and finish this sentence: He traded in his Chevy for a...?"

"C-C-Cadillac-ac-ac-ac-ac-ac."

"Hm, yes, you oughta know by now." Shepard turned to the receptionist. "Ma'am, his symptoms aren't dissipating. This man has to be gotten to a hospital."

The receptionist's hand was hovering over the button that hailed security. "He is in a hospital, Commander... And I thought you were going to do something to help with your omni-tool."

"Nope." Shepard held up the omni-tool. "I was just googling the symptoms, but ended up at the music video for _Cold Sweat_ by James Brown and a picture of a kitten riding a vacuum." He shut off the device. "Are either of those actual medicinal remedies?"

"Just... _leave_, Commander Shepard. We'll take care of this man."

Shepard nodded and turned to the young man, who seemed more confused than sick at this point. "Get better, son." He clapped him on the shoulder. "_And that's an order_."

—

Two asari, a counselor and her patient, sat on the other end of the waiting room, staring out over the perpetual river flowing below. The patient was restless, shifting around in her seat and tapping her fingers nervously against her armrests. The counselor placed a hand on her shoulder and the patient jerked back suddenly.

"The doctors told me you haven't been sleeping," the counselor said. "Have you been having nightmares again?"

The patient settled into a memory, her eyes unblinking. "I can still hear the screams... I think they're mine... No... Yes! They're mine. My hands are covering my eyes and I can't watch!"

"Shhh." The counselor rubbed the patient's back. "It's okay. It's all over now."

"Everything went so wrong. All that I loved was consumed, twisted into an abomination. I tried to escape, but I was trapped. There was only one way out. There was nothing else I could do!"

Shepard approached the patient, taking a knee so they could talk eye-to-eye. "Is everything all right here?"

"Who are you?" the counselor asked.

"Shepard. Spectre. Commander."

The counselor leaned over and whispered, "Post-traumatic stress disorder."

He gasped. "Reapers?"

The patient suddenly lashed out, slamming her fists onto her armrests. "They said _Dragon Age 2_ would be better!"

"Oh, no..."

The counselor nodded knowingly. "It gets worse."

"How much worse?"

"She bought the DLC."

"_Oh, no_..."

"Afraid so."

Shepard turned to the patient. "I'm so sorry for what you've had to go through. It'll get easier with time."

"It's okay," the patient said with a giggle. "I paid for a year's subscription to _The Old Republic_, so maybe that'll get my mind off things. It's non-refundable, so that must mean it's good, right?"

Shepard backed away.

_Slowly._

"Sure it is! Hey, ah... do me a favor. Get better. And that's an, uh... _And that's an order_..." He rounded the corner.

—

"Kaidan Alenko?" the salarian nurse asked, taking a moment to process the name. "Sure, he was admitted today. His room's down the main hallway, first door on your right."

Shepard nodded gratefully. "Thanks, doc."

"Nurse."

"No, I'm a Spectre." Shepard made his way down the hall, dodging a steady stream of stretchers and doctors that seemed to continuously flow from one room to the next and out into the hall again. He found the first door on the right. Instead of a room number, the holo-placard on the door read: _Morgue_.

Shepard felt his blood run cold. He dropped to his knees. "No..." He pounded on the door, attacked it as though it was the Illusive Man himself. "No! Why, why, why!" he shouted into the air.

"Commander Shepard?" The salarian nurse tapped him on the shoulder. "I said the first door on your _right_."

Shepard perked up and looked to the other side of the hallway. He could see Kaidan on a medical bed inside. "Oh." He stood and brushed himself off. "I thought you meant _my_ right."

"His room _is_ on your right, Commander."

Shepard scoffed at the nurse. "Think you're real funny, huh?"

"I assure you, a hospital is the last place you'll find comedy."

Just then, a physician in blue scrubs blasted down the hall using a stretcher as a luge. "EAAAAGLE!" He crashed into one of the windows and flipped into the decontamination chamber, unconscious.

"Maybe you're right." Shepard left the nurse and went to Kaidan's side. It had only been a few hours since they'd arrived on the Citadel, but the injuries he'd suffered back on Mars were subsiding. The swelling and bruising on his neck and face had all but disappeared.

But Kaidan was still unconscious, and breathing so subtly the soft _beep, beep, beep_ of the EKG was the only thing that let Shepard know his friend wasn't dead.

"Hey, Kaidan." He hoped his voice would prompt a response, but his friend remained motionless. "Don't know if you—"

The intercom overhead chimed once. _"I'm Commander Shepard, and this is my favorite intensive-care unit on the Citadel."_

"—can... Okay, anyway: I don't know if you can hear me, but since you can't tell me to get the hell out, either... I'll take my chances."

"...Get the hell out," Kaidan wheezed.

"You'll pull out of this coma soon. Don't die, Kaidan. You've got to fight. We need you in this. Seeing you in action again... it reminded me you're a hell of a soldier. The Alliance could sure use you. I could use you."

He turned to find a doctor waiting patiently behind him, who was going over a datapad with one hand and balancing himself on a cane with the other.

"You need anything, doc," Shepard said, "let me know."

The doctor looked up from his datapad, surprised. "Oh, we'll let you know, all right. How about another soliloquy from you? That ought to fix Mr. Alenko's fractured C2 vertebrae, multiple contusions, intracranial injury, as well as being comatose. We'll keep our life-saving science and medicine at the door while you chat it up with an unconscious patient. I bet you talk to walls in your spare time."

Shepard wasn't quite sure what the doctor was getting at. "I talk to my ship sometimes.

"Just get out."

"Is there a chance he has lupus?"

"It's _never_ lupus." The doctor shoved Shepard toward the door.

"Come on, Kaidan!" Shepard shouted back into the room. "Fight!" The doctor closed the door on his face. Regardless, Shepard said through the door, "_And that's an order..._"

He sighed after nothing happened. Part of him expected Kaidan to walk out of the room just then, ready and able to take on the Reapers along side the rest of the crew.

But he didn't.

Shepard would court-martial him later for failure to obey orders.

Frustrated, he made his way back to the lift. He still had a Council to meet with concerning the Reaper threat... if he remembered correctly. It had been a while, he was starting to lose track of what he had to be doing.

Something about Anderson?

On his way back through the decontamination chamber, he heard a pair of nurses making quick conversation.

"Hey, I just noticed something."

"Yeah?"

"We're supposed to have the 'best care on the Citadel', but we only have two rooms and two beds."

"I've only just now noticed this."

"That clinic in Zakera Ward that Dr. Michel transferred from had more than us."

"Probably the price we pay for having this great view of the Presidium."

"It really is a great view."

"_Great_ view."

"Yeah..."

A wounded soldier, bound among a clutter of stretchers in the middle of the hallway, held his arm out. "I... can't feel my leg!"

The nurses nodded absently.

"Great view..."


	5. Council Counsel

The _Normandy_'s targeting computer spun to life, giving Shepard a sub-orbital view of the planet below. He looked over the information packet the ship's database provided for him and began scanning for signs of a Prothean artifact. He looked for any dramatic changes in surface temperature, radiation, humidity, and cross-referenced the information against the planet's recent history. Any past incidents of people suddenly going insane or mass deaths in a certain area were things to be aware of.

_"I'm detecting an anomaly three-hundred kilometers southwest,"_ EDI informed him.

Shepard nodded. "Copy. Three-hundred klicks southwest." He toggled the view of the planet downward, just over a long ridge that overlooked a canyon that looked wide enough to fit the entire western seaboard of America inside with room to spare. It was an amazing sight to see.

"Launch probe," he requested.

_"Acknowledged."_ EDI rendered the probe's projected trajectory on Shepard's screen. _"Firing."_

The probe flickered against the sunlight and disappeared, following EDI's projections almost exactly, with a margin-of-error of only a centimeter—at max. The screen flashed a confirmation of impact and almost immediately began to fill up with data readouts from the probe.

"Anything?" Shepard asked, wiping a few beads of sweat from his brow.

EDI went through the process of analyzing some thousand petabytes' worth of data. It only took her a second or two. _"Nothing, Commander."_

"Damn. Okay, resume scanning sequence." He toggled the view further south and noticed an unusual heat reading. "The temperature here is abnormally high, EDI. Launch probe."

_"Commander, that's a colony."_

"A perfect place to hide an artifact if there ever was one. Launch probe."

_"It has a population of over thirty thousand."_

Shepard scoffed. "I killed more people during that Alpha Relay incident. This is nothing. Launch probe."

_"But you had no other option in that situation, Commander. It was either that or allow the Reapers into the galaxy. You had no choice."_

"Did I, EDI?" Shepard asked. He received no response. "EDI!"

_"Yes, Commander?"_

"...Did I?"

Joker spun around in his chair, looking annoyed to the point of physical discomfort. "Commander, why are we even out here?"

Shepard stared him down. "The reason should be obvious. Prothean technology is our only chance at stopping the Reapers. If this artifact is here, it can only help us in the fight."

"And how, exactly, did you find out about this artifact?"

"Overheard a volus talking about it in the Embassies."

"You _overheard_ it? No one actually told you?"

Shepard nodded. "Yes, that's right."

Joker groaned and cradled his head. "Shepard, you brought us all the way out to Kite's Nest, on the other end of the galaxy, to look for an artifact you heard about _in passing_? Do you know how much fuel we burned up to get out here? This is like the space version of the Sahara. There's nothing out here!"

"That we know of," Shepard corrected. "That we know of, Joker."

Joker let out a long sigh. "Anyway, weren't you supposed to meet with the Council or something?"

"What? Meet with the who?"

"You said you had to meet with Liara and the Council to discuss this Reaper off-switch you found on Mars."

Shepard scratched his head. "I don't recall..."

"You were gone for, like, ten hours and you didn't meet with them?"

"Meet with the...?" Shepard dug further back into memory, past his "residency" in Huerta Memorial, his time at Purgatory, his roaming of the Embassies, and the attack on Earth, when suddenly—

"Oh, _shit_!"

* * *

><p><strong><em>Commander Shepard is Easily Distracted<em>**

"Council Counsel"

* * *

><p>By the time Shepard finally made it to the Council Chamber on the Citadel, the four councilors had fallen asleep on the platform and Liara was playing around on her omni-tool, putting the finishing touches on a one-to-one scale replica of the Crucible in Minecraft.<p>

"Sorry I'm late!" Shepard cried out, having sprinted all the way from Docking Bay D-24. He hunched over to catch his breath. "I... got caught up in... space stuff... doesn't matter..."

Slowly, the Council woke themselves up and clumsily assumed their formal stances on the platform.

Councilor Udina was the first to voice is displeasure. "Commander Shepard. You've decided to grace us with your presence, I see. We're _honored_."

Shepard waved away the pleasantries. "Oh, stop. It's nothing, really."

"That was sarcasm, Commander."

"Oh."

"Now we can finally continue with the debate." Udina turned to address the rest of the Council. "I motion for immediate and galaxy-wide mobilization of all fleets and armies under Citadel control in the interest of repelling the Reaper invasion of Earth."

The turian councilor shook his head. "Councilor, the Reapers are in our space, as well. Earth is no more or less important than any Council homeworld."

"But _Earth_ was the first Council world hit. By all reports, it faces the brunt of the attack."

The salarian councilor made a gesture to object. "How do you know this is the brunt of the attack?" she snapped. "New Reaper fronts are opening up everywhere—"

"Wait just one damn minute," Shepard insisted, approaching the platform. "Why is Udina a councilor? How many times do I have to kick you down the stairs before you stop climbing to the top?"

**[BioWare Plot Hole #82 Redacted]**

"No! This _still_ doesn't make any sense. Anderson and I both hated your guts! Neither of us would have consented to your admission to councilorship. Anderson was the first human councilor. _He_ should choose who succeeds him!"

The four Councilors exchanged confused glances until the turian cleared his throat.

"Anyway, the needs of Earth will be tended to, but not before we see to our own worlds first."

Udina slammed his fist on the railing. "This is madness! We _must_ fight this enemy together!"

Shepard let his point about Udina go. Arguing for an alliance was all that mattered now. "We need your help. Everything you can spare."

The asari councilor, the one under Aria's thumb, jumped up suddenly, remembering her promise to the Pirate Queen. "Earth may be suffering, but our worlds are falling, too. The turians have lost Taetrus."

"You have my condolences, but with all due respect: it's a colony, what does it matter? How many of you dropped what you were doing when Eden Prime fell to Sovereign, or when Freedom's Progress and Horizon was culled by the Collectors?"

"Hey... _shut up_."

"We have to fight the Reapers together. And I don't expect you to follow me without a plan." Shepard nodded to Liara, who replaced him on the stand before the Council.

"Councilors," she said, "we have that plan. A blueprint. Created by the Protheans during their war with the Reapers."

The salarian councilor seemed intrigued. "Prothean? What is it exactly?"

"It's a race of aliens that were wiped out 50,000 years ago, but that's not important right now. As for the blueprint, we're still piecing it together, but it appears to be a weapon of some sort." She used her omni-tool to bring up the replica of the weapon she made in Minecraft. It was massive, blocky, and covered with little torches.

"And this is capable of destroying the Reapers?"

Liara nodded. "So it would seem."

"It's immense... and intricate. And I like the little treehouse you built onto it."

Just then, a group of Creepers appeared on top of the weapon. With a loud hiss, they exploded, destroying half the model.

"NO!" Liara shouted, and slammed her hand over her mouth when she realized how loud she had been. "I mean... the real thing will be much more durable than this representation." She shut off the hologram with a deep sigh of depression. "All of my diamonds were in there..."

"This is a fool's errand!" the asari councilor insisted. "The Protheans were wiped out by the Reapers. Clearly... the weapon is flawed."

"It was incomplete," Liara countered. "There was a missing component. Here. A massive power source the exact size and shape of the Citadel, referred to only as the Catalyst. But they ran out of time before they could finish building it."

The turian councilor's mandibles twitched a little. "Well, is the Citadel the Catalyst?"

"No."

"All right." He turned to Shepard. "Do you believe in this, Shepard? After what you've seen of the Reapers?"

Shepard gasped. "Did you just ask me if I believe this?"

"Yes, I did."

"You mean do I, Commander Shepard, the one who found and absorbed the information of a Prothean beacon, who stopped Sovereign from allowing the Reapers through the Citadel, who passed through the Omega Relay on a suicide mission to keep Harbinger from using kidnapped humans to create a strange baby Reaper thing...

"Who's been trying to warn the galaxy of the impending Reaper threat for nearly five years, died in the process, and ended being _right_ about _everything_. You're asking me if I think this is the best thing to do? You're all _still_ unsure about what I've been telling you all along?"

The councilors hung their heads and collectively shrugged.

Shepard scowled at the lot of them. "...F**k you guys."

"Shepard!" Udina barked. "Meet me in my office. Now!"

"No!"

"Right now!"

"Okay." Shepard followed Udina down to the Embassies, leaving the rest of the Council and Liara behind. As soon as they were behind closed doors, Udina started to pace in frustration.

"They're a bunch of self-concerned jackasses, Shepard!" Udina ranted. "We may have a spot on the Council, but humanity will always be considered second-rate."

"How can they be so blind? There have been exactly two galaxy-wide crises, Sovereign and Harbinger, and humans have stopped both of them. Why are we still in the hazing process, here?"

Udina grimmaced. "I... _really_ don't know, Shepard. Let's hope someone interrupts me before I have to explain the illogical situation any furth—"

"Commander." The turian councilor entered the room. "I can't give you what you're asking for, but I can tell you how to get it."

Shepard leaned back against Udina's desk. "What I'm asking for is an alliance between the Council races so we can put a stop a threat that will _literally_ destroy all sentient life in the galaxy if we do exactly what we're doing now. What's so controversial about that?"

The councilor coughed into his hand. "Anyway, we need you to rescue Primarch Fedorian from Palaven's largest moon, which has also fallen to the Reapers. Get in and out undetected, and he'll help you secure the alliance you're seeking."

"What's so special about this guy?"

"He's a Primarch."

"What's a Primarch?"

"Your mother." The turian walked off. "He has the backing of a lot of influential turians. Rescue Fedorian and they'll be more sympathetic to your cause."

"But you're the turian councilor. I came to plead my case to you because you have to power to give me the military assets that I need. Why can't you just help me out if you're already on my side here?"

"Because, ah... Well, you know, we can't really do _everything_ the, uh... Hey! Look over there!" The turian ran out of the room.

Shepard looked over his shoulder. "Look at what? I don't see anything?"


	6. What Dreams May Come

"_Shepard..."_

Shepard's world became a haze of darkness that hung heavy in the air. Soft figures of light appeared and disappeared, whispered to him in brief, until even the voices were taken away into the impenetrable nothing. He thought he could see these figures, he thought he could hear these whispers. He breathed deep and he thought he could feel his lungs expand, but they took nothing in.

His body moved, but in the nothing, it moved slowly.

_"Shepard..."_

The lights appeared again, spreading throughout the sky, replacing total darkness with something slightly less than such. The nothing took the form of trees that swayed gently against a breeze that wasn't there. They shed leaves that drifted through the ether, but never touched the ground.

Shepard took a step. Things crackled and crunched beneath his heavy boots, but he could not see what. The light that had diffused throughout the darkness intensified with every movement he made. The whispers beckoned him to stand still, lay down his burdens, let the dark take him back into its embrace.

He took another step.

Another. And another.

_"Finish this... You promise me..."_

Shepard was in a forest now. Underbrush and a pathway of dead leaves slightly illuminated. In front of him, some distance away where the nothing played at the light, he could see a small figure running through the trees. He chased after it, moving through the ether as though he was underwater. Dead things complained with every step he took. The whispers grew louder and louder.

_"I like to expect the worst. There's a small chance I'll be pleasantly surprised."_

They were begging. Calling to him by name.

_"Shepard..."_

He was close to the figure, able to make out the familiar face. It was the boy he had seen die back on Earth. The revelation resounded throughout the haze: a loud roar of artificial dissonance and a strange red light. The boy, frightened, ran deeper into the forest.

_"It's so much easier to see the world in black and white... Gray? I... don't know what to do with gray."_

He reached out, trying to catch the boy by the arm. He wanted to save him, wanted to take him away from this place. The boy stopped and turned to face Shepard, staring just as he had on Earth. There was a question there: Why had no one tried to save him?

_"Now go back and get the lieutenant and get the hell out of here! You know it's the right choice, LT."_

The light erupted into a wall of flame that consumed the boy, and they all burned out together, until Shepard was left with nothing but the darkness once again. His breath escaped him. He felt cold.

_"It's a hell of a job, isn't it, Shepard? Being the good guys..."_

"That..." Shepard's voice didn't escape his lips, as though he was speaking into a vacuum, but he could hear it in his ears. "That was... definitely symbolic of something."

He pushed himself up onto his toes and let himself fall. It took a couple seconds before he felt the ground again. "So, I'm dreaming, I guess. I wonder if..." A flashlight suddenly appeared in his hand. "Coooool." He clicked it on... "GAH!"

A pale man in a brown overcoat stood before Shepard. "Woah!"

"Who are you!" Shepard demanded.

"My name's Alan Wake. I'm a writer looking for—"

"Gun!" A pistol materialized in Shepard's hand, which he used to shoot the mystery man repeatedly. "That was close." He bounced up onto his toes a few more times, taking extreme delight in floating down to the ground. Then he tried jumping. "Oh, my God, I'm _flying_!"

When his feet met the earth again, he came to a startling conclusion: "Oh, man, I can do whatever I want!"

_"Stryker! The decision to proceed is yours... is yours... is yours..."_

_"...is yours..."_

* * *

><p><strong><em>Commander Shepard is Easily Distracted<em>**

"What Dreams May Come"

* * *

><p>Shepard stood in the communications room of the <em>SSV Normandy SR-1<em>, having just foiled Matriarch Benezia's evil rachni plot on Noveria. The crew was filing out of the room, giving him some space so he could be debriefed by the Council in private.

Joker's voice came in through the comm. _"Noveria report is away, Commander. You want me to patch you through to the Council?"_

Shepard nodded to himself. _"Patch them through, Joker."_

Three holograms flickered to life on the communications board. They already looked displeased with him, and it had only been seconds since the report was transferred. He wondered if they even read the report or just glanced at the title.

_"Is this report accurate, Commander?"_ the asari councilor asked, incredulously. _"You've found rachni on Noveria?"_

Shepard groaned. "The title I gave the report was, literally, _Rachni Found on Noveria_."

The turian councilor ignored that. _"And you released the queen! Do you have any idea what you've done? How many generations until they overrun the galaxy?"_

"Actually I _killed_ the queen, which you would know if you had actually read the report."

_"Killed the queen! Do you have any idea what you've done? Think of how much we could have learned from a living rachni queen!"_

"Just kidding, I actually released her."

_"Released the queen! Erm... Do you have any idea what you've done! You've completely... Wait, how did you say you handled the situation? I need to scold you for not doing the opposite."_

"Look," Shepard said, widening his stance, "I've had enough of you three pestering me every second of every day, and every light-year I travel. You're going to give me the support I need, and you're going to go after Saren _in force_."

The salarian councilor chuckled a bit. _"You've truly gone mad, Commander Shepard, if you think you can make demands of the Council."_

Shepard held out a gun. "I said..." He pulled back the hammer. "...give me the fleet I need."

This time, all three councilors busted up laughing.

_"Shepard,"_ the turian councilor said, recovering from his fit of laughter, _"I'm not sure what backwards physics book you've been reading, but shooting our holograms doesn't actually—HERK!"_

Shepard shot the hologram of the turian councilor several times over. He didn't reload the thermal clip, because for some reason weapons at this time were more advanced than in the future and didn't need to reload. "You were saying?"

The turian councilor fell to his knees. _"This... isn't... How the hell...?"_ The councilor exhaled for the last time. The hologram disappeared.

_"Goddess!"_ The asari councilor put up her hands. _"How is this possible?"_

_"Don't shoot!"_ the salarian councilor pleaded. _"We'll give you anything you want!"_

"Offer me money!"

_"You'll have it!"_

"Power, too. Promise me that."

_"All that we have and more! Please!"_

"Offer me everything I ask for."

_"Anything you want!"_

"I want my father, you son of a—! Wait..." Shepard shook his head. "I'm reenacting _The Princess Bride_ again. Let's start from the top."

–

Eden Prime. The fires on the horizon still hadn't gone out.

Nihlus Kryik took cover behind a crate, hearing footsteps in a place where everything was dead or undead. He readied his assault rifle, ensured the temperature of the gun was at combat level, and then stood to take aim. He couldn't believe what he saw.

"Saren?" he said despite himself.

The turian Spectre stopped walking in the middle of the courtyard, turning to acknowledge him with an icy blue stare. "Nihlus..."

He lowered his assault rifle. "This isn't your mission, Saren. What are you doing here?"

Saren walked up and clapped Nihlus on the shoulder. "The Council thought you could use some help on this one."

Nihlus briefly wondered why the Council hadn't informed him of this, but the suspicions quickly dissipated. This was Saren, after all. If he wasn't a legend yet, he was still a hero to millions. "I wasn't expecting to find geth here. The situation's bad."

"Don't worry..." Saren was behind him now. "...I've got it under control."

Nihlus could hear the quick whine of a trigger being compressed. But it wasn't possible. There was no way that Saren...

"What the hell!" Saren exclaimed.

_"Yeeeeeeehawwww!"_

Nihlus turned around just in time to see a Mako ramp off of a nearby hill, firing on all thrusters to give itself more speed. The oversized vehicle spun once, twice, _three_ times in midair before landing directly on top of Saren.

"Wha...?" Nihlus could say nothing. "N... _No_..."

The Mako drove forward off of Saren's body. Then it reversed back over it. It repeated this process a few times before someone finally emerged from the vehicle.

It was Shepard.

"What have you done!" Nihlus shouted at the top of his lungs.

Shepard tossed something in his direction. Nihlus had recovered just enough to be able to catch it. It was cold to the touch.

It was a bottle of Coca-Cola.

Shepard was already drinking one. He exhaled in delight and nodded in Nihlus' direction.

"You're welcome."

–

Joker piloted the _Normandy_ around another Geth formation, dodging missiles left and right, before lining up his attack run on Sovereign. The synthetic monstrosity was still attached to the Citadel Tower. This was his chance to take it down. Its shields were down and he had a clear shot.

Suddenly, he spotted something impossibly small moving in to attack the Reaper head-on. It looked about the size of a fighter, but it was too bulky.

"Break off the attack!" Joker shouted. "There's a fighter in the line of fire!"

Admiral Hackett came back over the comm. _"That's no fighter..."_

Joker took a closer look. "Is that... Is that a Mako?"

As if to confirm his suspicions, Shepard's voice blasted through the comm. _"Yeeeeeeehawwwww!"_

The Mako drifted at full speed, directly into Sovereign's grasp. Before the Reaper could fire its primary weapon, the little land vehicle smashed into it. Against everything Joker knew to be true, the Reaper instantly exploded into a million pieces. Debris rattled across the outside of _Normandy_'s hull, sounding an awful lot like rain.

There was silence across the channel, until the static gave way to Shepard's voice one more time.

_"You're welcome."_

–

"Yeaaaaahh... You're welcome..." Shepard was awakened by the sound of someone entering his cabin. He sat up on his bed and wiped the drool from his face. "I'm up, I'm up."

Liara sat down at the foot of his bed. "Are you all right, Shepard?"

"Yeah." He wiped the sleep from his eyes. "I was having the most amazing dream. You were there, Liara."

Liara blushed and looked down at her hands. "I'm flattered, Shep—"

"You and several of your twin sisters were there."

"Oh..."

Shepard saw Liara's good humor drain away. "Wait! No! That's not what I meant." He thought for a second. "No... Yes, it was. That was exactly what I meant."

There was an awkward silence between them for several long minutes.

"Hey, Liara," Shepard said, finally.

She looked up. "Yes?"

He took her by the shoulder. "_You're welcome_."


	7. Don't Hate, Just Calibrate

"_Shepard, you can just tell me where you want to go. You don't have to—"_

"Shhh, Joker. Relax. In through the nose, out through the mouth."

_"It's just that we've been sitting here for—"_

"Zip it, Joker."

_"But—"_

"Zip it."

_"Look, all I'm trying to say is—"_

"Plot a course to the Zip It Relay. It's located just inside of the Be Quiet For One Damn Second star system."

_"...Really?"_

"Yes, really. That's a real place."

_"See, I'm almost positive you're messing with me—and screw you, if you are—but some of these star systems have pretty stupid names. It's like they started running out of ideas. Beach Thunder. Preying Mouth..."_

"No way."

_"Seriously, look them up! Trident, Watchman, J.J. Abrams, Michael Bay.."_

"Beach Thunder sounds pretty badass. Let's go there!"

_"I thought we were going to Palaven."_

"Palaven's largest moon, actually. And, no, we're not going."

_"Why not?"_

"Because we've got Reapers literally smashing all sentient life into paste and the Council still doesn't take me seriously. Fine. Whatever. I've got bigger and better things to do."

_"Well... what's more important than saving the galaxy?"_

"You'd be surprised..."

_"You know, this Primarch might be worth saving."_

"If you gotta bribe people to save their own lives, they're not worth saving."

_"Wow, that was... surprisingly negative."_

"That's what I was going for."

_"I bet Garrus'll be disappointed to hear we aren't coming."_

"What's huh? Garrus?"

_"Yeah, Garrus is down on that moon with the Primarch."_

"Says who! How do you know this? Did you talk to him?"

_"Yes."_

"Ask him why no one visited me in prison!"

_"I lost contact with him a few hours ago. I think things are pretty bad down there."_

"Fine, fine. Set a course for Menae as soon as possible."

_"Roger that, Commander. Plotting—"_

"Now, hold on a minute there, Jeffery. You know the drill."

_"Shepard, you can just tell me where you want to go! You don't—"_

"Zip it." Shepard manipulated the galaxy map, moving the little representation of the _Normandy_ across the star system to the nearest mass relay. "Almost there..." Before the _Normandy_ made it to the relay, the entire galaxy map flashed red. The hologram dissolved. In its place was a small bird that chirped once and attempted to attack the little _Normandy_.

_"Zubat again?"_

"Nope. Pidgey this time."

* * *

><p><strong><em>Commander Shepard is Easily Distracted<em>**

"Don't Hate. Just Calibrate."

* * *

><p>The salarian crumpled over, his hands clutching a wound on his gut, the echo of a gunshot still rattling around the alleyway. He muttered a few curses, spitting blood with each syllable. Already, his brown skin was looking remarkably pale.<p>

A shadow moved over the salarian just then: globular and tentacled, shifting and writhing in anticipation of the kill.

_"Please, no!"_ the salarian pleaded, though it looked to pain him terribly to say anything. _"I was just following orders..."_

Blasto hovered out of the shadows, brandishing an M-77 Paladin heavy pistol. One of the hanar's tentacles casually flicked up and ejected the thermal clip. _"This one believes you have picked the wrong employer."_

_"Wait! I-I can help you! I'll tell you everything you want to know!"_

_"Tell it to the Enkindlers."_

Shots rang out. The salarian's cries were silenced. Garrus spilled his dextro-amino popcorn.

"Oh, God!" he cried out. "I didn't think he'd do it!"

Some of the patrons in the cinema shushed at him. Garrus responded by chucking a few popcorn kernels in their direction.

"Will you stop that?" Shepard snapped through a whisper. "Not everyone likes your running commentary."

"Sorry. I'm sorry." Garrus gathered up his popcorn bag and adjusted his 4D glasses. "But did you _see_ that? Blasto shot the only guy who could lead him to the Boss! How's he gonna avenge his girlfriend's death now?"

"Blasto always has an ace up his sleeve."

"Or, as it says on the poster: _He always has an ace up his sleeve. All seven of them!_" Garrus shoved some more popcorn into his mouth. "I love this goddamn movie."

"I know we promised each other that we'd watch all of the Blasto movies," Shepard said, "but I think they're running out of ideas for these sequels."

"Running out of _bad_ ideas, more like," Garrus corrected. "Blasto finally finds love. Tells her his soul name before she's viciously murdered by an asari sand cartel. Path of destruction. Wham, bam, take my money."

Shepard turned to cast a confused stare at the turian. "Yeah, but that's pretty much the plot of _Blasto 3: The Enforcer_."

"Except this one is in _4D_." Garrus happily tapped a talon against his glasses. "There's a difference."

There was a difference, however small. 4D technology allows a moviegoer to view the entire film through a dilation field, so that by the time the credits begin to roll, you'll have actually already watched the movie at varied speeds, which break down infinitesimally in such a manner that a singularity is created. Essentially, the movie is perceived through a black hole.

As such, you never stop watching the film, and you never really start. The movie is perceived and unperceived for as long as the moviegoer wears the glasses. Forever and never.

"Totally worth the extra five credits," Garrus said through a mouthful of popcorn. "Thank you, James Cameron."

"I don't know." Shepard took off his glasses, subsequently unwatching the movie. He quickly replaced them, and watched _Blasto 6_ for several more eternities. "Seems like a gimmick."

"Oh, stop." Garrus excitedly pointed at the screen. "Look! He found the asari Boss!"

"Told you he would."

"Shh."

"But you were the one talk—"

"Shh."

_"This one is unable to comprehend the reality that it was you all along, Melena,"_ Blasto said, lowering his Paladin.

_"Yes, it was me all along! Melena! Your old flame from many years ago! I wasn't good enough for you to learn your soul name, so I killed the one who was: your new girlfriend."_

_"It believes this sequence of events to be unfortunate!"_

Garrus awed, his mandibles swaying with excitement. "Oh, man..."

_"Now,"_ Melena said, raising a shotgun while Blasto's guard was down, _"I'll make sure no one else can ever learn your soul name!"_

Shepard flinched. "That's an awful lot of exposition right there."

"Shh."

Blasto dodged the initial shot by stretching himself into an arch, and then shot Melena through the chest with his Paladin.

_"No!"_ Melena shouted. _"This cannot be!"_

_"This one shall provide you the honor of learning its soul name."_ Blasto hovered down to Melena and whispered something inaudible into her ear. Garrus leaned forward, as if to listen more closely.

_"It's... It's a beautiful name,"_ Melena remarked. _"But... why?"_

_"So that this one's girlfriend will know who sent you into the afterlife."_

Gunshot. Cut to black. The credits began to roll.

Garrus threw himself onto his feet, throwing popcorn everywhere, and began to applaud while the rest of the cinema lethargically filed out through the exits. "_Yes!_ Amazing! That was, like... _ten times_ better than _The Goddessfather: Part Three_."

Shepard took off his glasses and rubbed the tension from his eyes. "I'd forgotten why I don't go to the movies with you. Now I remember. And emotional scarring doesn't go away."

"Lighten up," Garrus said, removing his glasses, as well. "Wait... Is the movie about to start, or did we just finish it?"

"I don't know, actually." Shepard strained to remember. "I know some time has passed, but the movie itself was a bit of a blur. Reminds me of when we saw the new _Transformers_ movie."

"Even I didn't care for that one."

Shepard stood from his seat and stretched, groaning every inch of the way. "So, that wasn't very fun. What now?"

"Wanna watch it again?"

"No."

"Hmm." Garrus scratched the top of his crest, absently humming to himself as he thought. "Um... Oh! I got it."

–

Shepard rolled his eyes at Garrus when they arrived. "The asari Consort?"

"What?" Garrus shrugged. "Bad idea?"

"Well, firstly: the waitlist is probably going to be at least three years."

The receptionist nodded. "Three years and eleven months," she confirmed.

"Right. See?" Shepard sighed. "The galaxy probably won't be here in a week, but still no one's canceling their appointments." He turned back to Garrus. "Secondly: no, it's not a good idea."

"Hmm." Garrus thought some more. "What about..."

–

"Garrus, we're still at the Consort Chambers."

"Wait!" Garrus exclaimed with a snap. "I've got a better idea."

They returned to their X3M aircar and Garrus took them up into the ring of traffic through the Presidium. He drove with some abandon; weaving through cars without signaling, speeding, tailgating, blasting music only he would appreciate out into the open for all to hear.

"You're a terrible driver, Garrus," Shepard said.

"A _unique_ driver," replied Garrus.

"Where we going?"

"Somewhere we're not supposed to." Garrus took the aircar higher. "Ever have that one thing you always wanted to do before you died, Shepard?"

"Like, before the last time I died, or this time?"

"Why do you take every opportunity to point out that you died? Yes, _this_ time. What's the one thing you've always wanted to do?"

"Convince the Council to stop the Reapers."

"Besides that."

Shepard gave himself a moment to come up with a better answer. "I don't know. I can't think of anything. What's yours?"

"The whole time I worked at C-Sec, I'd stare up at the top of the Presidium and say to myself: I want to go up there." The turian chuckled to himself. "But I never did. There were 137 regulations telling me I couldn't."

"Hm." Shepard grinned. Hearing Garrus complain about C-Sec sent his memories crawling back to a time when Saren was their biggest problem in the galaxy. "I miss regulations."

"Fist, the Shadow Broker, and Dr. Heart were the only three investigations on my list before you showed up. Five years later, and I might have a say in whether or not the entire galaxy will be destroyed. There are some who'd say that making introductions with you was a bad idea in retrospect."

"Was it?" Shepard asked.

"Was it a bad idea? Yes, definitely, a hundred times over. If someone wanted that in print, I'd type it up and sign it right now." Garrus took the aircar down on top of one of the Presidium causeways. The navigation computer complained about the illegal maneuver, but he switched it off. "But would I make the same choice again? Yes, I definitely would. A hundred times over."

Shepard felt an overwhelming feeling of pride brewing up inside. He'd never give Garrus the satisfaction of hearing it—at least, not yet—but he was honored to have a friend in the turian. If Shepard's life was destined to trail off into an unknowable darkness, then his friendships would be all to keep it illuminated until all the lights went out forever.

"It's my fault," Shepard said. "I should've let you know beforehand what you were signing up for."

"Somehow I doubt even _you_ knew what we were getting into, Shepard. And that, above all else, is why I admire you."

"Thanks, Garrus."

The turian moved to exit the aircar, but turned back when he had the door opened. "We're not going back for the Primarch, are we? That was all a lie."

Shepard nodded. "No, we're not. Yes, it was."

"Can I convince you to... I don't know... rethink your position on that?"

"Nah, I'm pretty dead set on this one."

Garrus sighed. "I've learned to stop questioning your judgment, so I'll just voice my hesitation here and leave it at that."

"Noted." Shepard smiled and opened his own door. "I always have an ace up my sleeve."

"Both of them," the turian added, happily.

Garrus exited the aircar and walked out onto the causeway, a bottle in his hand. Shepard followed.


	8. The N7 Man with a Plan

"I don't think I want to do this." Shepard tugged at the collar of his N7 armor. He felt as though he'd pass out from the heat building up inside, and his hands wouldn't stop shaking. "Can't someone else go in my place?"

"Who?" Khalisah al-Jilani threw her arms up, seemingly reaching the limits of her patience. "You're _Commander Shepard_. The first human Spectre. One of the few to pass through the Omega Relay and live. You're the thorian-slayer. The asari romancer. You're the hero the galaxy _needs_."

"I'm no hero."

"Say that to the crowd out there. Don't you hear them cheering?"

Shepard could barely hear anything over the beating of his heart. "I don't know."

"Well, they're out there—and the military needs you." Khalisah pressed a button on her omni-tool to activate her hovering video recorder. A little red light flickered on near the lens. "The turian lines are failing. Palaven is pretty much a floating ember at this point. If we don't sell these defense bonds and get more flowing into the military, the Reapers will have already won."

Shepard took a deep breath. "This seems like a pretty stupid way to raise money, though."

"Haven't you heard of Iwo Jima? Those boys traveled all over the United States to raise money during World War Two. And so did Captain America."

"Captain America wasn't a real person!"

"Are you sure about that, Commander Shepard?" She raised an eyebrow.

Shepard struggled with Basic Earth History for a few seconds. "I... guess not."

"Right! So get out there and sell some war bonds!" She pushed him through the curtain, and the crowd in the Presidium Auditorium went wild.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Commander Shepard is Easily Distracted<strong>_

"The N7 Man with a Plan"

* * *

><p>Shepard stood in the spot light, and almost immediately the music started. He grimaced as his eardrums were assaulted by the synthesized trumpets and drums blared from the loudspeakers. When his eyes finally adjusted to the light, he saw the crowd of cheering fans: most of them wearing N7 merchandise. A few were wearing silly N7 leather jackets.<p>

"Uh..." Shepard's voice was lost in the shuffle. An announcer's voice suddenly filled in what little silence remained.

_"Ladies, gentlemen, and asari: Welcome to the Systems Alliance 'Galaxy at War' Fundraiser! And now, here's your Master and Commander of Ceremonies: Commander SHEPARD!"_

"Oh, shit..."

The music fell into a steady tempo, and a line of chorus girls—mostly human, asari, and a few turians—marched out on stage in perfect formation. All of them saluted the Systems Alliance flag in unison before the song finally began.

Shepard's hands couldn't stop shaking. He'd been less nervous at the Collector's home base. "Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit..."

And the chorus girls sang to the beat:

_Who's strong and brave_

_here to liberate the Milky Way?_

_—_

"Uh..." Shepard looked down at his omni-tool, looking for the prompt. The tune looped until he finally found it. "Er... Not all of us can make a sub-orbital drop, or drive a Mako," he said in monotone, his voice booming over the loudspeakers, "but there's still a way all of us can fight!"

_Who vows to fight_

_across the sky_

_for what's right_

_night and day?_

_—_

The prompt scrolled down. "Systems Alliance Defense Bonds! Each one you buy is a thermal clip in the heat sink of your best trooper's gun!"

_Who will campaign_

_star-to-star_

_for Humanity?_

_—_

_Fortify our E.M.S._

_for the galaxy?_

_—_

_From Palaven to Titan!_

_The N7 Man with a Plan!_

_—_

"Look majestic and courageous... Oh, sh—" Shepard closed the prompt, unfolded his assault rifle and held it aloft as majestically and courageously as he could manage.

_We can't ignore_

_there's a threat_

_out in space_

_we must purge!_

_—_

_Who'll put a round_

_in the crown_

_of a husk_

_on the Verge?_

_—_

"This is the most serious threat our galaxy has ever endured. Ignore it, and you're telling your boys and girls on the line that they're on their own! Let them know they have you in their corner!"

_Who will redeem_

_heed the call_

_for Humanity?_

_—_

_Who'll rise and fall_

_give his all_

_for the galaxy?_

_—_

_Who's here to prove we can?_

_The N7 Man with a Plan!_

_—_

Another block of text appeared on his omni-tool. "Aw, hell..." He stepped forward and the chorus girls formed a line behind him. "Now, we all know this is about trying to win the war, but we can't do that without thermal clips and medi-gel, arms and armor. That's where _you—_" He pointed at the crowd without looking up from the prompt. "—come in. Every bond you buy will help protect someone you love."

Behind the chorus girls, someone in a very bad Reaper costume tiptoed up to Shepard, a laser pointer in one of its tentacles flashing steadily in the crowd's direction. Some kids in the crowd screamed and tried to warn Shepard.

_"Look out, Shepard!"_

_ "It's a Leaper!"_

_"Behind you! Oh, my gob!"_

Shepard continued as if he hadn't heard. "Keep our soldiers armed and ready, and those Reapers will think twice about trying to get the drop on us!" He turned around to throw a fake swing at the guy in the Reaper costume, but he came around too wide and connected with something solid. The Reaper grunted, tipped onto the ground and missed its cue to leave the stage.

"Sorry!" Shepard whispered.

_Total paragon, it's true!_

_Wouldn't it suck if we ended with..._

_Green, Red and Blue!_

_—_

Shepard gave a thumbs-up. "It's true!"

_Who'll give the Reapers a smack_

_for the whole human race?_

_—_

_Who'll shoot a Thanix right off_

_into Harbinger's face?_

_—_

_Who lit the eezo that stewed in Humanity?_

_A Spectre who lives_

_in a ship_

_with an asari!_

_—_

_Who'll fight them through highs and lows?_

_Back through the relays they will go!_

_The N7 Man with a Plan!_

_—_

The song ended. A few stagehands ran up and dragged the unconscious Reaper backstage.

Shepard offered a quick bow to the crowd, to ecstatic applause, and followed the chorus girls away behind the curtain. When he was safe, he took huge panic breaths and started to yank off all of the armor.

"That. Was. _Amazing_!" Khalisah al-Jilani ran up, her video camera in tow. "We got all of the footage ready to go out on the extranet. The war effort and Admiral Hackett's mystery project will have all of the funding they'll ever need."

"Good," Shepard said, considerably relaxed now. "Not saving the Primarch kinda set me back in the readiness department. Had to make up for it."

"Well, you definitely made up for that, and then some!" She coughed into her fist. "Though, I'll probably be able to retire on the story of a Spectre who abandoned the turian Primarch to watch the new Blasto film."

Shepard felt a chill run down his spine, but he tried not to react. "That... _No_, that didn't happen. There were, ah, unforeseen occurrences that prevented me from rescuing the Primarch from the front lines of Menae. Unforeseen. Print that."

"We have several eyewitnesses who were in the cinema when you and Garrus Vakarian were watching the movie and attacking people with dextro-amino popcorn."

"I didn't throw that popcorn!" Shepard caught himself and scratched the back of his head. "I didn't throw that popcorn because I wasn't there. Yeah. None of that's true. And even if it _were_ true, Garrus was the one throwing popcorn around. Not me. I'm respectful toward other moviegoers. I don't take calls, bring crying babies, or make conversation. A wise man once spoke of a special hell reserved for people like that, and I believe it."

Khalisah sighed and made a few notes on her omni-tool. "How about we let the galaxy make that decision, huh?"

Shepard got in her face, his hands balled into fists. "I've had enough of your tabloid journalism, your disingenuous assertions, and your _snide_ insinuations."

Shepard threw a vicious right hook, but al-Jilani dodged it. The man in the Reaper costume recovered and got onto his feet just long enough to say, "I'm okay!" before he took Shepard's punch straight to the head for the second time. The Reaper hit the ground hard, allowing a pained groan.

"Oh!" Shepard rushed to the Reaper's side while al-Jilani made a run for the exit. "I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"

The man coughed a few times. "This... hurts me..."


	9. The Spectre Interview

**[Transcript: Alliance News Network's BATTLESPACE – Ep. # 01207]**

**[Air Date (Earth Standard): April 10, 2187]**

THOMAS O'NEIL: Ladies and gentleman of the Alliance, welcome back to another episode of _Battlespace_, hosted live on ANN. My name is Thomas O'Neil, filling in for Diana Allers, who has come down with a terrible case of nobody-gives-a-f**k.

**[Camera 2]**

O'NEIL: Our first story here at the top of the hour – turian forces have begun their withdrawal from Menae after suffering heavy casualties during the Reaper attack. This comes shortly after the news that Primarch Fedorian has been counted among the dead, leaving General Adrien Victus as the new Primarch of the turian armed forces. Soldiers from the lines at Palaven are voicing their support for the new Primarch, but many believe that Fedorian's death is too strong an indicator of how the battle is progressing in the Tebia System, leaving them to wonder just how long the lines will hold.

**[B-Roll: Citadel: Presidium Commons]**

O'NEIL: In light of this news, many shops on the Citadel are taking part in a grassroots fundraiser dubbed "Retake Menae" by offering up a portion of their sales to support the turian war effort. This has resulted in an outpouring of support, with much of the Presidium Commons bustling with people eager to take part in the fundraiser.

**[Interview(s): Citadel: Presidium Commons]**

JOSEPH ADWIN (Owner of _Apollo's Cafe_): You know, the response today has been extremely humbling. It really has. Thirty years ago, we were at war with the turians, but now you're seeing practically every human in the Presidium turning out to donate to the cause. I've never seen anything like it.

KIM ABNETT (Employee of _Presidium Gift Shop_): We've had people just walk up and throw a handful of credits on the front counter and just walk away. The generosity here has made a few of us go teary-eyed.

JARLA ZEM (Manager of _Nos Astra Sporting Goods_): The Palaven-clan have always looked out for those of us... on the Citadel... It's an honor to return the favor... though it won't bring back the brave soldiers... who have already fought... and died...

**[B-Roll: Citadel: Presidium Commons]**

O'NEIL: Others have taken a more critical stance of the Retake Menae movement.

**[Interview(s): Citadel: Presidium Commons]**

NOLIC MORIARTY (Columnist): What we're seeing here is a s**tload of entitled turians, obviously. You know, when Eden Prime was attacked, I didn't go running around the Citadel telling storeowners to change store policy to suit my wants. Hell, no. I manned the hell up and threw my hat in with The Illusive Man. People call me biased because I'm pushing a human agenda while taking credits from Cerberus, but that's bulls**t. I'm just an honest human that wholeheartedly believes the galaxy would be a better place without aliens.

TYCHO XII (Owner of _Penny Arcade_): Menae cannot be a tool to attract attention to a cause. Menae must be the Cause.

CASEY HUDSON (Project Director of _Mass Effect 3_): Retake Menae? Can you wait right there for a second? Just one second. I need to tunnel through this pile of money to find where I keep all the f**ks I'm supposed to give.

**[Camera 1]**

O'NEIL: Joining me now from the _SSV Normandy_ via extranet is Commander Shepard, the first human Specre, who is currently on a quest to, ah...

SHEPARD: ...Save the galaxy.

O'NEIL: Right you are. Thank you for joining us on _Battlespace_.

SHEPARD: Thank you for having me, Billy.

O'NEIL: Thomas.

SHEPARD: No, I'm Shepard.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Commander Shepard is Easily Distracted<strong>_

"The Spectre Interview"

* * *

><p>O'NEIL: Commander Shepard, you were at the Battle of the Citadel, you rescued Zhu's Hope from the thorian, stopped a rogue Spectre from destroying the galaxy, stopped the Collectors from harvesting human colonists, stopped a VI hybrid from sending us into the dark ages, et cetera. You've saved all sentient life several times over, but you also joined Cerberus for a time. How can any of us trust you?<p>

SHEPARD: ...What?

O'NEIL: How do we know all of this "saving the galaxy" talk isn't just you pushing a Cerberus agenda?

SHEPARD: Because I'm not fighting to save _only_ humans. If I have an agenda, it's to stop the Reapers. Nothing more.

O'NEIL: According to our sources, you were denied help from the other Council races for trying to secure aid for Earth and Earth alone. Forgive my boldness, but for someone wanting to save the "entire" galaxy, you have sure been pushing for many Earth-centric shifts in policy.

SHEPARD: That's not—! Well... I mean, _kinda_.

O'NEIL: So you admit to furthering a human agenda.

SHEPARD: Have you been talking to Kaidan?

O'NEIL: Who?

SHEPARD: I'm not with Cerberus and I'm certainly not furthering a human agenda. Earth was attacked first. We're currently facing the brunt of the attack.

O'NEIL: Brunt of the attack? Did you get out your yard stick and telescope and measure the varied intensities of galactic decimation from planet to planet? From there, did you scientifically deduce that Earth faces the brunt of the Reaper invasion, and that the rest of the galaxy should therefore drop whatever they're doing, leave their burning homeworlds and help you out? Is that what happened, Commander Shepard? Hm? Did you use standard or metric to measure this?

SHEPARD: I... well, no, I didn't do anything like that, I guess...

O'NEIL: Oh? Then what did you use?

SHEPARD: The little Reaper figure on my ship's galaxy map was slightly bigger over Earth than anywhere else.

O'NEIL: ...Is that so?

SHEPARD: Yeah... Also, Admiral Anderson sorta ordered me, and I never really gave myself a chance to offer any constructive criticism there. I kinda got caught up in the explosions and that kid dying.

O'NEIL: So, let's face it, there's no real difference between getting the galaxy's fleets together to help Earth or Palaven or Thessia, is there?

SHEPARD: ...Shut up.

O'NEIL: No.

**[Camera 2]**

O'NEIL: Here to add to our debate—joining us via extranet from... well, my teleprompter just says "Question Marks"—is the leader of Cerberus and CEO of Jim Beam Kentucky Bourbon Inc., _The Illusive Man._

**[Camera 1]**

O'NEIL: Thank you for joining us.

THE ILLUSIVE MAN: It's my pleasure, Thomas.

SHEPARD: What the f—?

O'NEIL: The pleasure is mine, sir.

THE ILLUSIVE MAN: Please, continue with the interview. I'm just going to pour myself three fingers of Jim Beam Premium Black Label whiskey. Now in stores. Everywhere. In the galaxy.

O'NEIL: I will buy exactly twenty bottles on my way home. So, Illusive Man, just to fill you in: many in the galaxy are angered over Shepard's seemingly Cerberus-esque, human-centric agenda. Does Shepard work for you?

THE ILLUSIVE MAN: Now, that was refreshing. Notes of Spring, there. You can almost taste Summer approaching. A mild, lingering flavor, a hint of apple and vanilla, and a classy finish that reminds you of only the best parts of the journey. Extraordinary.

O'NEIL: I'm sure it's fine whiskey, sir.

THE ILLUSIVE MAN: It truly is. What were we talking about?

O'NEIL: Is Shepard working with Cerberus?

SHEPARD: I'm not with Cerberus!

THE ILLUSIVE MAN: I can tell you one thing right off the bat: a Cerberus agent would show a bit more restraint during an interview. We're more professional than that.

SHEPARD: He's turning his soldiers into Reaper hybrids!

THE ILLUSIVE MAN: By way of the Reaper encounters we've experienced in the past, Cerberus has been able to refine several chemical and biological enhancements using their technology. This is no different than what the Alliance currently does with biotics, fitting them with implants and so on. The only difference being that Cerberus soldiers _volunteer_ for the treatment. I hear the Alliance children at Jump Zero had no such say.

SHEPARD: That...

O'NEIL: He makes a good point, Commander Shepard.

SHEPARD: No! He... _No!_ The Illusive Man's soldiers attacked us on Mars. They stole valuable Prothean data that could help us beat the Reapers!

THE ILLUSIVE MAN: This is true, Thomas. Cerberus did have a presence on Mars, but, if you recall, the Reapers were only minutes from destroying the facility. We had to work quickly and rescue that data before all of it was lost. Permanently. To say nothing of Shepard's valiant efforts to retrieve the data, he was quite late getting there. That brand of tardiness is something the galaxy cannot afford to have within its bounds.

SHEPARD: But—

THE ILLUSIVE MAN: And as to the point of our soldiers firing on Shepard's lot, let's keep steadily in mind that it was Cerberus who stopped the Collectors when no one else would. Our ship, our crew, and our intel were all lost to us when Shepard turned himself in to the Alliance. This represented an _enormous_ fiscal loss, a notable depreciation of company resources, and set back our campaign against the Reapers an entire year. If not for Shepard and his flock, Cerberus would have already fought the Reapers back into Dark Space months ago.

**[Camera 2]**

SHEPARD: …

**[Camera 1]**

SHEPARD: …

O'NEIL: Have you anything to say in your defense, Commander Shepard?

SHEPARD: Well... what about Omega? Why did you steal control away from Aria? Yeah! What about _that_? He's up to no good there!

THE ILLUSIVE MAN: Ha! Forgive me, Shepard, I'm very drunk, but did you just ask me why I seized control of Omega away from someone widely referred to as "The Pirate Queen"? _You're_ the one who has seen fit to deal with Aria T'Loak several times in the past. Not only that, but you've openly associated with Zaeed Massani, co-founder of the Blue Suns, going so far as to let him onto your ship.

SHEPARD: He... Well, yeah, he did co-found the Blue Suns, but he's not with them anymore. Right? He might be, I guess. Depending...

THE ILLUSIVE MAN: I've freed Omega from an oppressive dictator. Do you have any idea how many thank you cards I've received? And what have you done, Shepard? Saw a movie? Went dancing at a club?

SHEPARD: Got you there! I didn't go dancing. The owners at Purgatory wouldn't acknowledge that what I was doing on the floor constituted "dancing." They called it "T and F."

O'NEIL: T and F? W-what is that? What does that mean?

SHEPARD: I don't know.

THE ILLUSIVE MAN: It stands for _Trying and Failing_, Mr. O'Neil. It's also referred to as "Doing The Jenkins" in some circles.

SHEPARD: ...

**[Camera 2]**

SHEPARD: ...Aw, no...

**[Camera 1]**

THE ILLUSIVE MAN: My point has been made. For humanity.

SHEPARD: You are the leader of a _terrorist_ organization. I'm not going to be made to look like the bad guy! _You're_ the bad guy!

THE ILLUSIVE MAN: Nu-uh.

SHEPARD: You've kidnapped... You've tortured... The thresher maws and the massacre... You're _evil_.

THE ILLUSIVE MAN: Yes, Shepard, we were evil. Hear me? We _were_ evil. But that was then and history has forgotten. They've forgotten about Rear Admiral Kahoku and how we fed all those marines to the thresher maws. You know why? _Plot device._ You spat in Sovereign's face when he said the galaxy was doomed, but you couldn't tell a terrorist organization that you'd find another way to stop the Collectors? Notice how no one gave a damn about Cerberus when _Mass Effect 2_ came aro—Ha! I'm sorry, I am very drunk... shlummie.

**[Camera 2]**

O'NEIL: Gripping discussion. Well, that's about all the—

**[Camera 1]**

THE ILLUSIVE MAN: Wait, wait, wait. Before we go, I ha... Hahaha! Oh, man. Okay, I have one question for Mr. Citadel Spokesman over there... The one telling me I'm evil when he's flying the ship I built for him.

O'NEIL: Go ahead, sir.

THE ILLUSIVE MAN: Think about it, Shepard. Think long and hard... _hehe_... about why you think Cerberus is evil. Gather up all of those bad things that we did, put them in one room... and just look at them. Kahoku, the thresher maws, the experiments... Think about 'em, all at once. Bring that hatred back. Do you have them all in mind, Shepard?

SHEPARD: ...Yes.

THE ILLUSIVE MAN: What was my justification for doing all of those naughty things?

SHEPARD: To stop the Reapers. Or so you said.

THE ILLUSIVE MAN: Right. _To stop the Reapers_. Hm. Yes. I'll even throw you a bone: I want to stop the Reapers in a way that would give humanity the advantage in the future. Man, that's evil. Now let me ask you something else. Are you ready?

SHEPARD: I guess.

THE ILLUSIVE MAN: You committed genocide in the Bahak System. Three hundred _thousand_ batarians because of a choice you made. Why did you do it, Shepard?

SHEPARD: …

THE ILLUSIVE MAN: Shepard? Why'd you kill three hundred thousand people in the Bahak System?

SHEPARD: End transmission, Joker.

THE ILLUSIVE MAN: Are you somehow _more_ moral than me because you killed them all at once?

SHEPARD: No— Goddammit, Joker, it's still recording... No! You just opened up _Minesweeper_! The little "close" button is right... No, no, no... Yes! Right there. Click that... Why did you press the Windows button? Now all I can see is the menu bar... Fine, shut it down... Which button? It's the big button that says "Shut Down"! It's not—_no—_it's not in the Games folder... It doesn't matter what games are in there, check them out later.

O'NEIL: Commander Shepard?

SHEPARD: I don't know. _Galaxy of Fantasy_, I think, and possibly _Grim Terminus Alliance_. I don't know, I might have uninstalled it... Well, I would've told you if I'd known... No, it's not the same. I will invite you up to see my cabin someday... No, not right now, I got stuff to do.

O'NEIL: Commander Shepard?

SHEPARD: Yes, the big X. Just click—

O'NEIL: ...Okay, then. It seems we've lost Commander Shepard. But this seems a good a time as any to cut to a commerical. _Battlespace_ will be right back in just a few minutes. Stick around, folks.

THE ILLUSIVE MAN: And Shepard's the Spectre. Heh... Kai Leng, pour me another drink. Belay that order. Give me the bottle... Did I _say_ leave the cap on?


	10. Space Coffee

"...only an anonymous caller, nothing more. But I just wanted to say that you have my full support. Whatever happens in this war, know that you have friends in high places."

Shepard entered Councilor Udina's office just in time to see him click off his communicator. "You wanted to see me, Councilor?"

"Ah. Yes, Shepard, I did. Thank you for being so prompt. It's a nice change of pace." Udina tossed the communicator onto his desk.

"Who were you talking to?"

"It's of no consequence, Commander. Let's just leave it at that."

Battlespace was playing on a nearby screen. _"And that was our last live caller for the day: another citizen voicing his support for our special guest, The Illusive Man."_

Shepard cocked an eyebrow at Udina.

"Ha! Well, ah..." Udina scratched the back of his head. "What an interesting episode. Certainly are a lot of people jumping to Cerberus' defense. Traitors, the lot of them."

_"Our caller ID says that the mystery supporter contacted us through the office of Councilor Udin—"_

Udina clicked off the screen in a hurry. "That's enough of that. Too much of the stuff rots your brain."

"Right..." Shepard didn't believe a word of it. He'd been watching sitcoms and ANN his entire life, and his situational awareness was still top notch. "I wish I knew who that mystery caller was. I'd fly my spaceship right through their mail slot."

"We may never know. Ever. But, whoever he was, I'm sure he's, um... very handsome." Udina clapped Shepard on the shoulder. "Now, as to why you've been brought here." He dialed a command on his omni-tool, and the nearby screen lit up with a map of the galaxy. "We've been in contact with the turian primarch, Victus, and it appears he's hosting a war summit in the Pranas System. I'd like for you and your crew to make your way out there and ensure negotiations go smoothly."

"War summit?" Shepard shook his head. "I'm no diplomat, Udina. I can't even negotiate extra onions onto my burger without someone getting shot."

"And that's exactly why we need you there, Commander. You and Victus have seen the true face of this war, and you both know what it'll take to stop it. The salarian and krogan diplomats have to be made to see, as well."

"Godammit..." Shepard felt a migraine coming on. "Whose idea was it to stick krogan, salarian, and turian diplomats in a room together? You're practically _begging_ for a mountain of sidequests there."

"Not the best idea, I know, but it's all we have to work with."

"Why can't you send a _real_ diplomat? I mean, I know I'm a Spectre and all that, but I feel like in a galaxy populated by _trillions_, I'm somehow doing everyone's job."

"That's what I like about you, Shepard," Udina said with a grin. "You get the job done and you don't ask questions."

"Didn't I just—?"

"I'll send the coordinates of the summit to the _Normandy_." Udina led Shepard out of the office and into the hallway. There was still a lot of commotion coming from the receptionists' desk; people lined up and making a fuss over loved ones lost behind the lines. "Before you head out there with all due swiftness, feel free to help yourself to the Spectre armory."

Udina dialed another command, and the door across the hallway opened up.

"Spectre armory, huh?" Shepard rubbed his hands together. "Thanks, Udina. What kind of weapons are available in there?"

"Oh, it kind of depends."

"On what?"

"This and that." Udina turned away and quickly muttered something.

Shepard leaned in. "What did you say there?"

"Oh, nothing! I was just saying it depends on how many credits you have."

"Credits!" Shepard was aghast. "Are you _serious_? You're still gonna charge me for weapons I'd use against the Reapers!"

"Nothing's free, Shepard."

"Weapons for the guy who's fending off a galactic extinction event should be! Come on, Udina!"

"Be reasonable, Commander. They're not all that expensive. And we've even installed a shooting range for you to test out your new weapons after you've bought them."

Shepard looked around, thinking he was being pranked. "Let me get this straight, Udina."

"Okay..."

"You have a firing range... inside of the Citadel Embassies."

"I don't see the problem—"

"A _firing range_... and some form of _weapons distribution_... inside the embassies."

"You're placing extreme emphasis on those words as if they're supposed to have some significance, but I'm not seeing it." Udina checked the time on his omni-tool. "If you'll excuse me, Shepard, I have a few meetings to attend to. I won't take up anymore if you time."

"Okay..." Shepard watched an old woman carrying a Black Widow sniper rifle out of the opened Spectre Office.

"You remind me of my daughter-in-law," she said to the gun before disappearing down the hall.

"Okay..."

Udina waved goodbye. "Good luck to you, Shepard," he said, walking away down the hall. "And remember: be quick about getting to the summit."

Shepard nodded. "It's what I do."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Commander Shepard is Easily Distracted<strong>_

"Space Coffee"

* * *

><p>"What do you mean you don't do military discounts?" Shepard demanded.<p>

The barista shrugged. "All of our extra revenue is going toward the Retake Menae charity drive. We can't afford to give out discounts, sir."

"What about my card?"

"That's a coupon."

"Well, take that, then."

"It's expired, sir... And it's for a different shop."

Shepard's eyes narrowed. He dropped a credit chit on the counter. "Think you're funny, huh? Your coffee's not even that great, anyway." He did an angry about-face and walked back toward the courtyard.

_"I'm Commander Shepard, and this is my favorite cafe on the Citadel."_

"God..." Shepard took a sip of his coffee and handed a second cup to Joker, who accepted it absently. "If you buy ten coffees, you get one free. If you know the manager, you get one free. If you saved the galaxy, you pay full price. That's... That's just harsh."

"Harsh..." Joker hadn't blinked; something off in the distance had his attention. He took a sip of his coffee and spat it out. "Ow! Hot Zeus! What the hell is this?"

Shepard hesitantly took a seat on the bench next to Joker. "Coffee, Joker. You asked for one."

"Oh." He took another drink and seemed to like it this time. "Good coffee. Thank you."

"No problem."

Joker turned back to admire EDI, who was still standing in the middle of the courtyard, watching all of the various transactions between kiosks with much interest. "You're welcome," he said.

Shepard rolled his eyes, but said nothing.

"Oh, wait. You bought the coffee. Thanks, again. Or whatever."

"I take it the two of you are having a good time."

"I'd like to think so, Commander."

"How's she adjusting to her new body?"

"With gusto."

The two clanked their coffee cups together. "Cheers," they said.

EDI suddenly strolled over to one of the kiosks and grabbed a paying customer by the wrist. "If you take a penny, you leave a penny. Acknowledge the sign." She whipped a hand up and brought the customer's face down on the counter hard enough to rock the condiments onto the ground.

Joker swooned. "Machine-stamped."

"Nice," Shepard said. "Has anyone in the Commons given you trouble about Little Miss Terminator over there?"

"Like every other minute. I just tell them she's a VI that I keep around to help me with my condition. Wink." He took a drink. "I hope I haven't been adding the 'wink' vocally this whole time."

"Really? No one's questioned the fact that you have an attractive, Reaper tech-infused—?"

**[BioWare Plot Hole #123 Redacted]**

"Right, because sex appeal." Shepard sighed, swirled his coffee around in its cup. "I remember when BioWare didn't need to resort to that to keep me playing. We had one romance option, and we were happy.""

"Don't be a hypocrite. You're living in a galaxy that sports a race of blue women. You've been dating one for three games."

"What?"

"You've been dating one for five years."

"Right." Shepard nodded. "Maybe I _am_ a hypocrite."

A woman wearing a latex uniform of the unusually skimpy variety walked up just then. "Commander Shepard, I'm Diana Allers, reporter for Alliance News Network and quote-unquote _columnist_ for IGN. I'd like to be stationed aboard your ship, conduct some mildly-conflicting interviews with you, and make not-so-subtle and poorly-executed advances on you, regardless of your relationship status."

"Aren't you the girl who licked that onmi-tool for some reason?" Joker asked.

"That might give you some idea of how I got this job."

Shepard looked at Joker, who could only shrug, and then turned back to Diana. "I'm sorry, Ms. Chobot—"

"Allers," Diana corrected.

"Whatever, my immersion's already broken. Anyway, Ms. Allers, I'm currently in a relationship, so none of this will be—"

"Commander Shepard." Another woman walked up and saluted; this one in an Alliance uniform. "I'm Specialist Traynor. I've been brought aboard the _Normandy_ to act as your _deus ex machina_, possible love interest, and to tell you that you have emails even if you were going to check them, anyway."

"Deus ex...?"

"Right, so whenever your crew gets stumped and can't figure out where to go next: Whoa! Look at that! I intercepted some kind of crazy Cerberus signal... or whatever. Hey, wanna play chess?"

Shepard cradled his head, embarrassed. "Both of you get out of here, play _Knights of the Old Republic_, then come back and tell me the definition of _subtlety_."

Kelly Chambers showed up in her lycra dancing outfit just then, looking very impatient. "Are you gonna let me striptease in your cabin, yet?"

"Dammit, Kelly..."

"Fine," she harrumphed and turned away. "If you need me, I'll be down in the docks, buying myself some character."

"Good girl." Shepard pointed to the other two women. "Off with you. The both of you. Go!"

They turned away, perturbed.

"As I was saying," Shepard told Joker, "maybe I _am_ a hypocrite."

"Maybe..." Joker stared off into space, perplexed. "I never noticed how many people want to get you into bed, Shepard."

"Right? It's like half my job these days." Shepard stood to leave. "Well, it's getting late. I'd better head to bed."

"It's not _that_ late."

"I've been having some pretty kickass dreams lately."

"Ah. Good luck with that, then," Joker said with a nod. "I'll probably hang out around here awhile longer." He smiled in EDI's direction. "If you know what I mean."

"Loud and clear. It's not perverted, it's hardware maintenance. Wink." Shepard laughed. "Huh. Now I'm doing the wink thing. Anyway, good luck to you, too."

Joker turned to Shepard. "Hey, what was that thing you mentioned earlier? Didn't you have a meeting to get to?"

"Meeting?" Shepard took a drink from his coffee cup. "What meeting?"

"You said something about a meeting before you got distracted by the coffee stand. Something about a summit?"

Shepard's eyes widened.

–

_"Perseus, you must take your trusted soldiers to the summit of Mount Olympus! There, you will face the undead armies of Hades in the final battle!"_

_ "I thank you, Father. But how am I to defeat him?"_

_ "Well, you pick one of three colors, see—"_

Garrus shook his head and took a prolonged drink of his soda. "I can already tell this final battle's gonna be a letdown." He took another drink, emptying the rest of the cup. "Dammit, I'm out."

Shepard sighed. "You couldn't pace yourself? The movie's not even halfway done."

"I drink fast when I'm excited. That was pretty crazy when Zeus summoned the Mega Kraken, right? I mean, did you _see_ that?"

"We're watching the same film, aren't we?" he snapped.

"Jeez, who spit in your popcorn?"

"I—" Shepard looked down at his bag of popcorn, wondering briefly. "...Ah, I'm just distracted."

Garrus' mandibles twitched a little. "Distracted?"

"Distracted."

"How could anything tear your thoughts away from _Another Clash of the Titans: Mega Kraken vs. Sharktopus_?"

"I feel like I had something important to do... Something... very important... Very..." Shepard trailed off.

Garrus shrugged. "Well, if it wasn't worth remembering, it wasn't worth pursuing. That's my motto."

"You don't have a motto."

"You never let me have anything."

"I bought your ticket. _And_ your soda."

"My _empty_ soda." Garrus shook the cup, letting Shepard hear the ice rattle around freely. "Shepard."

"What?"

The turian shook the cup again. "My _empty_ soda."


	11. Artistic Integrity: Sold Separately

This chapter of _**Commander Shepard is Easily Distracted**_, "The Jenkins Dilemma," is currently only available by way of DLC, and can be purchased through one of the following digital distribution clients:

Origin

Xbox Marketplace

Origin

Playstati_origin_ Network

Origin

Steam (Just kidding; Origin)

And,

Origin

**Author's Note:** Even without this chapter, you are still receiving the entire story. I'll repeat that: You are still receiving the entire story. The extra chapter is merely a fun addition for true fans of the _Mass Effect_ series.

Oh, did I say that out loud? Sorry, that wasn't directed at you. I was talking to the true fans behind you who were willing to pre-order the Collector's Edition sight unseen, and pay the ten extra dollars at launch.

You might say they give _110%_.

Again, don't worry, it's nothing really important to the storyline, anyway. An added bonus, dude, and nothing else. It just involves the last living Prothean and a trip to Eden Prime. That's right, you heard me. _The last living Prothean_. No biggie. Just a remnant of the alien race the series has been referring to so heavily over the last three games. It's not like the Protheans have played a big part in the story. They're just the whole reason Shepard's on this quest to begin with—a quest that began on Eden Prime.

It's like I'm selling concentrated doses of nostalgia for, like, _no reason_.

I should probably end this note. I'm practically advertising this thing by telling you that you don't need it. And you don't.

_Last living Prothean._

_Eden Prime._

You don't need that.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going back in time to sell Jolee Bindo as DLC for _Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic_. He's not essential to the main storyline. Not at all. Trust me; I'm an artist and I've been to the internet.

Jolee's "Snake Story" is also sold separately.

Because why sell fond memories wholesale when you can piece 'em out?


	12. Plan B from Outer Space

"Gosh, that last adventure was amazing," Shepard said, packing up his arms and armor into his locker. "Really memorable stuff happened back there."

"Really memorable," Garrus echoed. "Remember that—?"

"Do I ever! You don't even need to repeat it. _That's_ how cool it was."

"Totally," said Garrus. "Hey, where should what's-his-name put his stuff down?"

"You mean the _last living Prothean_ in the galaxy? I don't know. Wherever... Wherever he wants to go, man. We're practically an ambassador's ship right now. Sorry, I'm still riding that Last Mission High"

Liara burst into the cargo bay, her eyes whipping around to scan every inch of the room. "Where is he!"

Shepard smiled and shut his locker. "You mean the—?"

"_The last living Prothean_, yes! Where is he?"

"_Ah_, that's right, Protheans are a pretty crucial part of Liara's backstory. In fact, that's how we met. Remember, Garrus?"

Garrus nodded. "Oh, I remember, all right. It was back at that dig site on Therum, when the Geth dropped two Armatures almost directly on top of us. I call that chapter of our lives _Geth From Above._"

"Nice."

"Right?"

Garrus and Shepard high-fived each other.

"Will you both be quiet for one moment!" Liara started bouncing up onto her toes. "Where's the Prothean, Shepard?"

"See, Garrus? It's important to her! It's important to her story arc. Wouldn't that just be terrible to hack off that catalyst for some really great character moments and story consistency and sell it separately as downloadable con—_Oh, my God_, we forgot about the summit!"

* * *

><p><em><strong>Commander Shepard is Easily Distracted<strong>_

"Plan B from Outer Space"

* * *

><p>Shepard paced at the airlock, waiting for the pressure to equalize between the two ships. The little light above the door pulsed red and slowed in frequency every few seconds. "Please, please, please, still be here. <em>Please<em>, please, please, please..."

"It's been two weeks, Shepard," Garrus said, adjusting his formal wear. "They've probably all gone home... to decide how they're going to kill each other before the Reapers do the job first."

Shepard groaned. "There was better cooperation during the Crusades."

"Have you thought about what you're going to tell the ambassadors when you get in there?"

"I'll think of something."

"Say we were busy visiting our friend in the hospital."

"I'm not gonna use coma-Kaidan as a shield, Garrus."

"I've got it. We'll tell them we had to take a detour to help some colonists."

"I'm fairly certain they'll want details."

"We got a distress call from the Traverse and decided to investigate. We landed north of the colony, used the nearby forest for cover, and took up overwatch near the colony. Cerberus was conscripting colonists, so we opted to take action. You hit their commander with a downwind shot at 321 meters, surprising the bunch, while we flanked from both sides of the colony. We suffered two casualties but no deaths, the remaining Cerberus forces retreated, and the colonists were checked for injuries by Dr. Chakwas before we got offworld. Mission accomplished."

Shepard nodded. "Sounds like something we'd do."

"It's crazy detailed. They'll have to believe it."

"Who was injured?"

"James took a bullet in the knee—"

"I hate you."

"And you pulled a muscle from the kickback on your rifle."

"Why do _I_ have to be injured?"

"Because you made that amazing 321 meter shot. You can't do something awesome and come away clean. That's not how stories go."

"Tell that to Blasto."

"Oh, you." Garrus scoffed. "That's different."

"Don't see how."

"Shut up."

The light started to pulse slow enough that it was solid for a few seconds. But the door didn't open.

"I'm just gonna tell them the truth," Shepard said. He started a breathing exercise to help with the nerves. No ambassador during a war summit wants to hear that one of their own was late because he wanted to catch a movie. At least, no ambassador that he was aware of. "They're just... They're just gonna have to understand that I can't be everywhere at once."

"You have one of the fastest ships in the galaxy, I don't think they're going to buy that." Garrus murmured to himself for a moment. "Tell them you got stuck in traffic."

Shepard glared in Garrus' direction. "You're right, Vakarian. I'll tell them I got stuck in traffic. In space. The Pillars of Creation were backed up all the way to Alpha Centauri. It was gridlock."

"Take it easy, Buck Rogers, I was just trying to help."

"Yeah, well..." Shepard ran a hand over his face, exhausted from waiting, from nervousness. "I think the only kind of help I need is a miracle."

The light turned green. The airlock hissed open.

The turian primarch was on the floor, crawling toward the airlock. "Thank the Spirits! I thought you'd never come!" His hand was clutching a wound on his chest. "You have to get me out of here!"

Shepard and Garrus exchanged startled glances, then turned to the center of the meeting room, past the injured primarch, to find the krogan and salarian ambassadors dead on the table. Their lifeless hands were still wrapped around each other's throats.

"The krogan wanted the genophage cured," the primarch explained through gasps. "The salarian refused. I refused. We didn't really have a Spectre-shaped buffer there, so we just ended up attacking each other. I'm not even sure who started it. All I know is that I'm the only one left."

The turian cackled maniacally. "But we can get those krogan back! There's a turian weapon on Tuchanka, a remnant from the Krogan Rebellions, that will cause massive casualties when we activate it. Just let me send word to my son, and he'll set off the bomb, no problem!"

Shepard grimaced. "Yeah, about that..." He hit the button to seal the airlock.

"Wait!" the turian primarch called out, but the hatch closed shut before he could finish.

"Well!" Garrus cleared his throat. "You've only recently learned what a primarch is, but you've already let two die on you. Well done."

"This is bad."

"Agreed."

The red light pulsed red again. The pressure shifted in the airlock, causing Shepard's ears to pop.

"So what do we do now?" Shepard asked.

Garrus shrugged. "Wait until the door opens, I think."

"No, about this whole war asset thing. I have exactly _zero_ support from the council races. How am I supposed to save...? Eh..."

"Earth?"

"That's the one. How am I supposed to save Earth if I can't get support from anyone?"

"Good question." Garrus scratched his chin and watched the pulsing light for a few seconds. "There's always the quarians. And didn't you help out some Geth with Legion last year?"

"Hey, yeah!" Shepard snapped his fingers. "We could get in touch with the Flotilla and see if—"

Joker's voice crackled through the intercom. _"Did you two already meet with the ambassadors?"_

"They're dead, Jeff."

_"Wha—?"_

Shepard clicked off the comm. "Anyway, if we can get in touch with the Flotilla, we still might be able to pull this off. By then, Admiral Hackett might be finished with his Death Star, and we can kick those Reapers straight back into Dark Space. Yeah! It's fool-proof is what it is."

Garrus seemed to mull it over for a bit, then shook his head. "Even if you could get the quarians and the Geth to help you out, would that be enough to protect the Crucible? Don't forget, we still haven't found the Catalyst either."

Shepard grunted; he'd forgotten all about the Catalyst. "What's with all these MacGuffins lately? I feel like we're in an episode of _Lost_. The Catalyst is probably a polar bear or something—or a light switch on Mercury."

"Maybe..." Garrus laced his talons together, in deep meditation. "..._we're_ the Catalyst."

"Or maybe it's like _The Matrix_ and we just have to accept the Reapers as an inevitability."

"Woah." Garrus blinked. "Maybe us just doing what we're doing now is beating them, huh?"

Shepard and Garrus pondered the mysteries of the Crucible and the Catalyst in silence, the possibilities pervading their every thought. The light above the door pulsed red again and went solid.

"Really, I hope the Crucible's just a big space gun," Shepard said.

"I second that." Garrus yawned. "This airlock sure takes a long time to cycle."

"Reminds me of the elevators on the Citadel. Back in the day, that is."

"Good times."

"Yep, good times."

Garrus smiled. "So, it's off to see the quarians, then? Maybe we'll see Tali there."

"Gosh, look at you."

"What?"

"Why can't you just come out and say it? You like Tali."

Garrus snorted and waved away the assertion. "I do not. We're friends! We're all friends here. Since the Saren days and all that."

"You can't fool me, Vakarian. Nothing gets past me."

–

_"Are we still able to proceed as planned, Councilor?"_ The Illusive Man took a drink from his glass and awaited Udina's answer.

"You may proceed, Illusive Man," Udina said with a slight bow. "You have the fleet and guard rotation schedules for the Citadel? I sent them last night."

_"I do, and they will most definitely prove very useful during our little visit. I believe our alliance will only enrich our respective goals here."_ The Illusive Man went to light a cigarette, but picked up his bourbon glass instead. After several unsuccessful attempts to smoke his bourbon glass, he realized what he'd done. _"When you only do two or three things a day it's easy to mix them up. Ever put a carton of milk in the cupboard?"_

"Erm..."

_"Don't answer that. Is it possible Shepard's aware of what we're planning?"_

"Doubtful. He walked in on our conversation earlier and didn't connect the dots. He's not the most, ah... _cognizant_ person in the galaxy." Udina looked away from the screen. "Also, I accidentally forwarded my Cerberus application to Shepard instead of you, and that was a couple weeks back. I think Commander Shepard will be the _least_ of your problems, sir."

_"Very good, Councilor."_ The Illusive Man attempted to drink from his cigarette pack. He quickly tossed it away. _"We'll be in touch."_

–

"Like a fox," Shepard said. "Just admit it, you like her."

"I won't admit it," Garrus replied. "We're just friends."

"Come on. She's a nice girl! You two would be good together."

"She's a good friend."

"I bet she's got reach, Mr. Flexibility." Shepard playfully nudged Garrus on the shoulder. "Eh? Get yourself in the middle of some... _Tali-brations._"

Garrus snorted. "Nice."

"Right?"

"All that aside: we are going straight to the Flotilla, yeah?"

"Straight to the Flotilla. No detours," Shepard insisted. "No distractions."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Commander Shepard is Easily Distracted<strong>_

"The Spectre in the Rye"


	13. Storming the Citadel

Shepard joined Joker in the cockpit, taking instant notice of the lavender nebula the _Normandy_ was moving through. They were closing in on the Citadel.

"Alliance Control, Alliance Control, this is _Normandy_, how copy?" Joker sighed, waiting for a response through the comm. Nothing but interference came back. "Alliance Control, this is _Normandy_, requesting permission to dock."

"What's going on?" Shepard asked.

"Control isn't responding," Joker said. "We've already passed the first checkpoint, and they haven't pinged our transponder, either."

"Huh."

"Weird, right?" Joker turned to his copilot. "EDI, are we hailing on the right channels?"

"We are," she replied. "The interference we're hearing is from the nebula. None of our transmissions are getting through."

"Well, that's just dandy."

"Fire a warning shot across the bow," Shepard said.

"No." Joker opened the channel again. "Alliance Control, this is _Normandy_, we're headed to Bay One-Four, Zakera Ward. Are we clear to descend?"

"The channels have finally opened," EDI said.

The interference cleared up and they heard someone through the comm messing with the reciever. _"Uh... yeah, this is Alliance Control, we had a slight weapons malfunction, but uh... everything's perfectly all right now. We're fine. We're all fine here now, thank you... How are you?"_

Joker shot Shepard a confused glance, but went back to the comm. "Alliance Control, are we cleared to land at Zakera Ward?"

_"Ah... Negative, negative! We have a reactor leak here now. Give us a few minutes to lock it down. Large leak, very dangerous."_

Shepard, aggravated, said though the comm, "Citadel Control, this is Commander Shepard. I'll be using my Spectre overrides and we'll be landing without permissions. Who is this? What's your operating number?"

_"Uh..."_ Gunfire cracked through the speakers. _"Leng, we're gonna have company!"_ The channel went dead.

Shepard, Joker and EDI exchanged a look of surprise.

"Well, that can't be good," Shepard said.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Commander Shepard is Easily Distracted<strong>_

"Storming the Citadel"

* * *

><p>The Cerberus soldier picked up a copy of the book <em>Revelation<em> by Drew Karpyshyn, turned it over in his hand to read the synopsis on the back, and took notice of the giant cardboard cutout of Admiral David Anderson with a speech bubble over his head that proclaimed, _"A thrill-a-minute novel! Now available at ALL good bookshops!"_ His image was winking and smiling and giving an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

"Maybe I should get this one," he said to himself.

His partner walked up, checked the cover and shook her head. "Don't do it."

"What? Why?"

"Did you read his _Revan_ novel?" she asked.

"No."

"It was half the reason I volunteered to become a Reaper super-soldier. I needed an outlet."

"That bad, huh?" He put the book back. "Well, I'm not sure which one to get, then."

"I told you to make a list."

"_I told you to make a list! Bleh bleh bleh meh!_" He stared down his partner. He couldn't see her face through the helmet, but he knew she was glaring at him. "Sorry, that was uncalled for."

"Whatever."

"Well, if you're gonna be like that." He turned away and approached the counter. The cashier was reading a copy of _Twilight: Vampires in Space_. "Excuse me, miss."

The cashier looked up at the armored soldier with a rocket launcher on his back. "Can I..." She yawned. "...ah, help you?"

"It's been a while since I've been able to make it out to a bookstore. I was wondering if you had any recommendations."

The cashier lazily earmarked her page and set the book aside. "What genre do you prefer? Mystery, fantasy, Stephen King?"

"I've been known to have an _eclectic_ personality, so I'm open to anything, really."

"_Please_," the soldier's partner scoffed. "You only discovered that word yesterday from your word-a-day calendar."

"Pay no attention to my colleague," the soldier told the cashier. "She's about as well-read as a space hamster."

His partner stomped her foot. "What are you _talking_ about? Before you met me, the only thing you had read was _Animorphs_!"

"Not true," he calmly replied. "I'd also read _The Monster at the End of This Book_."

"Whatever."

"Well, if you're gonna be like that." He returned his attention to the cashier. "Anything you can recommend would be fantastic."

The cashier yawned again. "Ah, sorry about that." She picked up a book from the display case. "We have _Aralakh Also Rises_ by Urdnot Hemmingway. It's about an impotent krogan who falls in love with a divorced asari."

"Sure! Add that to the pile. What else?"

"_I Am Krogan_ by Richard Matheson's clone."

"I'll take it!"

"We also have _The Winds of Winter_, the newly-released sixth book of _A Song of Ice and Fire_ by George R.R. Martin."

"Excellent! That should do it."

The cashier nodded and rang up the three books. The total came out to 32.11 credits. "Would you like a bag for your books?"

The soldier snorted. "No, thanks, I'll carry them. Those bags'll just be more waste in the junkyards."

"Oh, right," his partner said, shaking her head in disbelief. "Since when have you been environmentally conscious?"

"Since always."

"Whatever."

"_Bleh meh meh._"

"Real mature."

"Only when I'm around you." He rummaged around in his wallet and asked the cashier, "Do you take military discounts?"

She nodded. "We do, but only for Systems Alliance members."

"Aw, harsh." He shrugged and handed her a credit chit. "That's the way things go, I guess. Don't sweat the small stuff: that's what I always say."

The cashier swiped the chit, deducted the correct amount, and handed it back to the Cerberus soldier. "Did you want your receipt?"

"Sure! Why not, right?" He leaned over the counter. "Between you and me, I can probably write this off as a business expense."

"I won't tell anyone," the cashier said with a wink. "Have a nice day and enjoy those books."

"I will, and I will!" the soldier said happily and met up with his partner. He could still feel her glaring at him. "Don't be mad."

"I'm not mad," she said.

"I know you're mad." He pointed toward the exit. "Look, you can pick the next _two_ stores we go to. I swear, I won't complain. Not even a little bit."

"Not one word?" she asked, her voice calmer.

"Not one."

"I want to go to the GAP."

The soldier was taken aback. "What are you going to do? Try on clothes?"

"Maybe."

"The lieutenant will know if you take your armor off. You gonna wear jeans over your greaves? Wrap a scarf around your pauldrons?"

"You said no complaints!" she snapped.

"I'm not complaining, I'm asking a question. What's the point of going to a clothing store if you can't—"

_"LET'S DO THIIIIIS!"_

Shepard crashed through the storefront window, disconnecting from his zipline in midair. Garrus and James were close behind, but Garrus came in too hot and bounced off the window frame. He hung motionless on the zipline, groaning loudly.

"Man doooown..." Garrus called out.

Shepard opened fire on the Cerberus soldiers, who had no time to react in any way. Their armor was breached and they went down into a pool of their own blood. James launched a grenade into the bodies, and the resulting explosion tore away half of the store and disintegrated what was left of the enemy combatants.

The cashier was screaming from behind the counter, where she had taken cover.

As scorched and burning book pages fluttered down around the squad, Shepard quickly scanned what remained of the store and gave a hand signal to James and Garrus. "Clear," he said.

"Clear," James barked.

"Owwww..." Garrus moaned, still hanging from the zipline. "Someone cut me down, I'm starting to spin..."

Shepard folded up his assault rifle and rounded the corner to help the cashier to her feet. She recoiled when she saw him. "Your terrible, Cerberus-induced nightmare is over, ma'am."

The cashier was hysterical. "Th-they just came in to buy books!"

"Sure they did." Shepard patted the woman on the back. "First it's the books, but then you wake up the next morning and BAM-" The cashier screamed. "—you're being husked-out and fed to a thresher maw by Cerberus scientists. I've heard it a thousand times."

"Have you?" James asked.

"Might as well have."

"But have you?"

"Shut up, Vega." Shepard nodded to the cashier. "No need to thank us, ma'am." Then her turned to his team. "Squad, move out!"

James hurriedly cut Garrus down from the zipline and the three of them disappeared into the Presidium.

The cashier looked around at the store. The burnt cover of _I Am Krogan_ drifted down onto the counter like a feather.

–

The squad of Cerberus shock troopers stopped by the water's edge and peered in. The lieutenant slung his sniper rifle over his shoulder and knelt down to get a closer look.

"Yeah, I don't see anything," he said. "I think that krogan was full of shit."

One of the troopers jumped up. "I saw one!"

"Where!"

"Over there by the fountain!"

The lieutenant's head bobbed back and forth, trying to get a better view. "By _that_ fountain?" he asked, pointing.

"Yeah, that one."

"I still don't see anything." He sighed. "Are you sure it wasn't just the water splashing up from the fountain?"

"Positive." The trooper scratched the top of his helmet. "I think."

The lieutenant stood. "You're full of shit."

"I swear I saw a little flipper!"

"You're full of shit," the lieutenant repeated. "That krogan was lying. There aren't any fish in the Presidium lake."

"He seemed pretty insistent, though."

"He also told us the rumor of there not being any fish was part of a Spectre conspiracy perpetuated by Commander Shepard."

"Yeah, that did seem odd, I guess." The trooper hadn't taken his eyes off the spot by the fountain. "I hear Shepard isn't a big fan of fish, anyway. Had a big ass aquarium on the _Normandy SR-2_, and he kept buying fish and letting them die. Over and over."

"Sick bastard." The lieutenant shook his head. "Well, I don't think there are any fish here. We'd better move on before—"

_"LET'S DO THIIIIIS!"_

Shepard dropped down from the upper floors of the Presidium, directly on top of the lieutenant, breaking the trooper's back. James dropped down, taking impressive shots with this rifle as he fell. There was only one shock trooper left when James landed. Shepard took him out with his omni-tool.

Garrus dropped in, his war cry echoing throughout the Presidium. He jumped too far, though, and did a belly flop into the lake, scaring off a bunch of fish swimming around in the water. He splashed around weakly. "Maaan dooooowblrblrblr..."

Shepard folded up his assault rife. "James, go help out Garrus."

"What?" James asked. "The water's like a meter deep. He can make it."

They turned back to Garrus. The turian was splashing around more frantically.

"Help me, Sheparblrblrblr...!"

James sighed. "I'm coming, Garrus."

–

"This is it!" the Cerberus phantom whispered to her partner, pointing at the movie screen.

Blasto leveled his Paladin heavy pistol at the salarian. _"Tell it to the Enkindlers."_ Shots rang out.

The phantom high-fived her partner and some of the other Cerberus soldiers sitting in the next row down. They all cheered at the screen, "Blasto! Blasto!"

The phantom went to high-five the person sitting on the other side of her, only to find Shepard occupying that seat. "Commander Shepard!" she gasped. The twenty or thirty other Cerberus soldiers in the cinema all turned around at once.

"That's me," Shepard confirmed with a nod.

The phantom took notice of James and Garrus sitting in the next two seats; all three of them wearing full space suits with straps that bound them to their seats.

"Why are you wearing all of that?" she asked. "And why do you have seat belts in a movie theater?"

Shepard smiled and clicked on his comm. "Joker, can you hear me?"

_"Loud and clear, Commander,"_ Joker replied.

"Let's do this," Shepard said.

_"Roger that."_

Shepard turned back to the Cerberus soldiers, but said nothing. He casually looked down at the watch on his omni-tool.

"W-what's going on?" the phantom asked. The other soldiers were drawing their weapons.

"Three. Two. One..."

A loud pop cracked through the cinema. The Cerberus soldiers turned back to the movie screen. Sprouting out from the image of Blasto was the cockpit of the _Normandy_. In the darkness, they could see Joker through one of the viewports. He waved happily until the difference in pressure kicked the starship back out into space. The entire cinema depressurized against the monstrous roar of rushing wind, tearing each and every one of the Cerberus soldiers out of their seats, through the breach and into the black of space.

Shepard gripped his seat and resisted the pull of the rushing wind until the pressure had equalized. He nodded, folded and unfolded his assault rifle, then activated his comm. "All clear, Joker."

_"Copy."_

"Well, that was kinda exciting," he said to James. He unbuckled his makeshift seat belt and floated up above the cinema seating. He couldn't find Garrus anywhere. "Garrus, where the hell are you?" The turian's seat belt had torn completely. Shepard looked out through the breach and saw Garrus furiously backstroking through space.

_"Man dooooown!"_ Garrus cried through the comm.

–

Kaidan lowered his pistol. "Shepard, what's going on!"

"Kaidan?" Shepard lowered his weapon, as well. James followed suit. "You're okay!"

"What are you talking about?"

"You're out of the hospital! I thought you were in a coma. Where have you been?"

Kaidan's arms dropped. "Shepard, I've been out of the hospital for three weeks. I was rewarded with Spectre status two weeks ago. And I was assigned to security detail for the councilors one week ago. I sent you an email every step of the way. Where have _you_ been?"

Shepard snorted. "Space. Duh-hoy."

"Okay, Shepard."

Udina pushed his way past the other councilors. "Shepard's blocking our escape! He's turned against us!"

"Say what now?"

"Just hang on," Kaidan insisted. "I got this. Everyone calm down."

"I can explain this, Kaidan," Shepard said.

"Come on, Shepard. Gun drawn on a councilor... kinda looks bad."

"We don't have time to negotiate. You've been fooled, all of you." Shepard pointed at Udina. "Udina's behind this attack. I found the email he accidentally when I was riding the elevator up here. Udina's with Cerberus!"

"Of course, I am!" Udina shouted.

"He admits it!" Shepard caught himself. "Wait... He admits it? Why?"

"I've made no secret about my dealings with Cerberus. I kept it private for a while, but now it's all over the news feeds." Udina threw his hands up. "The Illusive Man wanted to negotiate some shore leave for his soldiers before he shipped them off to fight the Reapers!"

"Oooooh." Shepard scratched his head. "But... why were you running?"

"You've destroyed half the Presidium! Why wouldn't we run?"

"Ooooh..." Shepard nodded, replaying the battles in his head. "So, _that's_ why they didn't... Okay, that all makes sense now."

"The Illusive Man will have to do some more recruiting. Thanks a lot, Shepard."

"You're welcome?"

"That was sarcasm."

"Where?"

"Goddammit..."

Shepard looked to Kaidan. "Well, now that you're awake, any chance you want to come back to the _Normandy_?"

Kaidan grimaced. "Nah, Shepard, I'm... I'm good. You go on ahead."

"Okay, then." Shepard waved to everyone. "Have a nice day, now."

The Council collectively shook their heads, and Kaidan buried his face in his hands.

"That could've gone better," Shepard said to James as they walked away.

"_A lot_ better."

"Yeah." Shepard queued up the elevator. "For being the Shadow Broker, Liara should really see things like this coming. Traynor's been running circles around her lately."

"Yeah..." James looked around. "Hey, where's Garrus?"

Shepard scanned the hallway and poked his head outside just enough so that the councilors didn't notice him. "I don't know! What the..." He activated his comm. "Garrus, where the hell are you?"

Garrus voice came back through a layer of static. _"Shepard? Can you hear me?"_

"Yeah, Garrus. Where are you?" he repeated.

_"Um... I... don't know... I took the elevator to the wrong floor. Ended up in this weird room with this kid who says he controls the Reapers."_

"Just get back to the elevator. Stop bugging little kids."

_"He's telling me to jump into this beam of light. Should I do it?"_

"No, Garrus, just get back to the elevator. Leave him alone."

_"Hey, this is kinda cool! I pick one of these colors and the Reapers stop—"_

"Garrus, you can't stop an invasion by picking colors. Did Captain America pick colors to defeat Hitler?"

_"Ah... Did he?"_

"Just get back to the elevator, Garrus. That's an order."

_"Fine... No, kid, I have to go. Maybe someone else will come up here and... play Twister with you, or whatever it is you're doing here... Yeah, right. If you're the Catalyst, I'm John Wayne—"_

Shepard turned off the comm. "Kids these days."


	14. MailShep

"_Completely irresponsible, Shepard. Should be used to it by now. Still not, but I'm trying."_ Mordin Solus breathed in, breathed out. _"I'm trying."_

"So, you're not mad about the summit?" Shepard asked, rolling his chair closer to the personal terminal now that the danger of being scolded had seemingly passed. "Not even a little?"

_"Frustrated. Flustered. Promptly confused. Not mad."_ Mordin paced around, leaving the screen for a few seconds at a time. _"Summit ambassadors dead. Changes everything. Chances of stopping the Reapers no longer favorable. Will have to rely on the quarians and geth to protect the Crucible and assist ground forces."_

"But will that be enough?"

_"Size of the two fleets unknown. Unlikely their combined forces will ensure a victory. Symbolic victory perhaps, but symbolism won't save galaxy. Will provide a pleasant feeling before extinction, if anything."_

Shepard groaned and reclined in his chair. "Great..."

Mordin smiled. _"Odds have never been in your favor, Shepard. Current situation is likely still a familiar one."_

"I guess." Shepard spun around a few times. "The salarians and turians aren't gonna help me, and the krogan are going to be too occupied attacking the other races to care. Gosh, I mean... curing the genophage? I feel like their timing could've been better on that request."

_"Agreed."_

"Why don't I get to make any requests, huh? I feel like we're all reaching for the last pudding cup, but I'm the only one who has to dance for it."

_"I've seen you dance, Shepard. Imagery hilarious, but analogy no less true."_

"Sure, the genophage is a bad deal... but so is extinction. Maybe I'm wrong! I can never tell these days. Been feeling a little spaced out."

_"Terrible pun. Continue."_

"It's just one demand after another. I just can't seem to get the war assets that the Crucible Project needs."

Mordin rubbed his chin. _"Who have you recruited?"_

"Uh..." Shepard thought back to the last few weeks. "I think... No, I guess they didn't actually... Well, we have Garrus back on board!"

_"A start. Vakarian's skills will prove useful in the battle."_

"But I lost Kaidan back on Mars."

_"You've broken even, Shepard."_

"Story of my life."

_"Anyone else? Anyone at all?"_

"I have a specialist who reads my emails now."

_"Yeoman Kelly Chambers?"_

"No, she's off on the Citadel... attempting to become compelling."

_"Again—"_

"I broke even, I know."

Shepard looked at his empty model display case, at the aquarium full of ridiculously expensive and dead fish, and at the window where starlight filtered in from above, emanating from a thousand burning worlds. Nothing was going the way it should have. He spun around one more time in his chair but stopped. It wasn't fun anymore.

"Not quite sure what to do here, Mordin," he said.

_"You'll find a way, Shepard. Always have. Against unspeakable odds: always."_ Mordin nodded. _"Quarians and geth a good start. Do what you can, when you can. The rest will fall into place."_

"Thanks, Doc."

The salarian waved him off. _"Proud to see you still holding the line, Commander."_ He made a quick salute._ "It had to be you. Someone else might have gotten it wrong."_

The feed ended.

Shepard continued staring at the screen as though the answers were somewhere within that frame. He was running out of options and time. If he didn't find more ships to recruit, there wouldn't be an Earth left to save. "Good thing I'm Earthborn, or I'd have a very hard time caring about that planet so intensely."

An invite for a free week of _Star Wars: The Old Republic_ popped up on the screen. The subject line read, _If we admit we should've just made KotOR 3, will you come back?_ He moved it to the spam folder along with the others.

_"Hey, Commander?"_ Joker called through the intercom.

"Go ahead."

_"We've got a bit of a fuel situation. If it's all right, I'd like to swing by a fuel depot on the Citadel before we leave to track down the Flotilla."_

"Fuel situation?"

_"Yeah, that trip to Eden Prime kinda put the zap on our reserves and I didn't have a chance during the whole Cerberus debacle, so..."_

"Oh, yeah. That awesome, super amazing Eden Prim adventu—"

_"Yeah, that one."_

"Don't interrupt me while I'm selling DLC, Joker."

_"Sorry, Commander."_

"Too late for that. EDI, activate Joker's ejector seat."

_"You bastard!"_

EDI's voice replaced Joker's through the comm. _"I'm afraid Jeff's seat is not equipped with such a feature, Commander. If you would like, I can requisition one from the Alliance if—"_

_"Will you two stop trying to eject me!"_

"That's all right, EDI. You got lucky this time, Moreau." Shepard resumed spinning in his seat. "Fine, get us fueled up. And I guess if we're sticking around, send a list of movie showtimes to Garrus. I hear the new turian production of _Sherlock Holmes_ is in cinemas." He coughed. "In the cinemas we didn't destroy, at least."

_"Yes, Commander,"_ EDI replied.

"I'll be down talking to Liara if you need me." Shepard clicked off the comm and took the elevator down to the Crew Quarters. At the kitchen area just outside Liara's room, James and Garrus were having a lively discussion about something Shepard couldn't piece together yet.

James nodded in Shepard's direction. "How's it going, _loco_?"

Shepard returned the nod. "James. _Todos es muy bueno, gracias._"

"Wha... Was that Dutch or something?"

Garrus raised a hand. "Shepard, I bought us tickets for _Dianetics: The Musical_."

"Count me in," Shepard said. "I'm not paying for you, though."

"Too late, I used one of your credit chits. Should've spoke up sooner."

"But you told me just now."

"And I didn't hear a no in that time, so... yeah." Garrus shrugged.

Shepard bit his lip before he could say something he'd regret and turned away to Liara's room. Garrus and James continued talking.

"Okay, how about this?" Garrus began. "Ever hear the name 'Archangel'?"

James shrugged. "No."

"Well, what if I told you... Wait, did you say no?"

"I've never heard of Archangel, no."

"Really? Huh." Garrus scratched his head. "What about Hawkeye?"

"Nope," James said.

"Killshot?"

"Nope."

"Deathshot?"

"No."

"Longshot?"

"Nuh-uh."

"Double Tap?"

James shook his head.

"What about Turian Batman?" Garrus asked, desperate.

James shrugged. "I guess."

"Well, what if I told you... Dammit, never mind." Garrus crossed his arms in a huff. "Dumb game, anyway."

Inside Liara's quarters, Shepard was dumbstruck by the technology that seemed to burst out of every corner and every seam. A wall lined with monitors glowed a dark blue, and they pivoted around in unison to face him. He awed aloud, unsure of which thing to play with first.

"Please, don't touch anything, Shepard," Liara said from a chair off in the corner. Her eyes were locked on the datapad in her hand. "Garrus had to do a lot of calibrations to get all of this in working order."

"Where...? What...?" Shepard walked to the side. The monitors followed him. "How did you get all of this on my ship!"

Liara pressed a few buttons on the datapad, but didn't look up. "When we got back from Mars, I had my equipment brought on board."

"What could you possibly need all of this stuff for?"

Liara shrugged. "Because I'm the Shadow Broker, Shepard."

"You said that earlier, but I thought you were joking! When did that happen!"

**[BioWare Plot Hole #180 & Shameless Product Reference #10 Redacted]**

"Oh, yeah, I was totally there." Shepard rolled his eyes. "The bomb and the car chase, _et ceterta_. How could I forget?" He sighed.

"What can I help you with?" Liara asked, distantly.

Shepard walked over and laid a hand on Liara's shoulder. "What's going on? Do you want me to leave?"

Liara finally looked up from the datapad, the spell broken. She blinked a few times, bringing the light back into her eyes. "I'm sorry, love." She tossed the datapad away. "Things have been... hectic. A thousand different contacts and I'm still no closer to finding out what the Catalyst is, where we can find it. No one seems to know. It's..."

"Frustrating?"

"Very."

"Anything I can do to help?" Shepard asked.

"I wish there was." She stood and wrapped her arms around Shepard's chest. "I keep telling myself it's just a matter of time, but I've never been a very good liar."

"Any chance the Catalyst is a polar bear?"

"I don't think so," Liara said. "Can polar bears power a moon-sized Prothean weapon?"

"I don't think so. Then again, I was never any good at biography."

"Biology?"

"Whatever."

"We'll find the Catalyst." Liara stepped away, out of Shepard's embrace and back toward her wall of readouts and messages. "It's only a matter of time."

Shepard watched Liara, sorrow creeping into his mind, as she allowed the information swirling around the room to consume her completely. He couldn't stand to see her like this; she'd always had an obsessive personality, digging for ancient things that might never have been there. But getting her hands on the Shadow Broker's contacts only served to inflame that personality, make it a part of who she was: second-by-second.

The last time he'd seen Liara relax was during that brief window of time between Sovereign's defeat and the day Shepard had died. It'd been almost three years since then. If she could physically show the age all that stress in all that time had wore into her, she'd probably be in her matriarch stage by now.

No, he didn't like to see her like this. But with so much at stake, he couldn't make her stop.

Not that she'd listen.

Shepard made for the door, but took one last look at the terminal screens as they pivoted around to face him. He saw his name atop one of the documents.

"Have you been reading my emails?" he asked.

"Yes," Liara replied, matter-of-factly.

"All of them?"

"Yes."

"Uh..." Shepard scrolled through the long list. Liara was still off in Brokerville. "My follow-up question might be met with some controversy, but ah... _Why_?"

"It's part of what I do here, Shepard. Don't take it personally. I read everyone's emails."

Shepard clicked through the menus and found a separate email cache for every single crewmember on board, past and present. "What are you doing tonight?"

Liara looked up, confused. "I have to broker a deal with a volus merchant on Omega, set up a trade route between the Nest and the Traverse, and file a report with the Alliance about the location of The Illusive Man's hidden stati—"

"Yeah, yeah, but can you put all that off for a few hours?"

Her brow furrowed. "I suppose. Why?"

"Feel like stealing some of Garrus' popcorn and reading other people's emails?" Shepard asked and Liara seemed to brighten at the idea. "_Come on_, we haven't had a date night in a while."

Liara's attention darted between the screens, her datapad, and Shepard until the prospect of privacy invasion gained some traction with her conscience. "All right."

Shepard took a seat on the chair in front of the terminal and Liara sat down on his lap, leaning back until their cheeks touched.

"Ready?" Shepard asked, his fingers hovering over the dial.

Liara nodded. "I haven't looked at these closely. I was only looking for keywords and phrases."

"That so?" Shepard smiled. "Then let's hope we find something really embarrassing."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Commander Shepard is Easily Distracted<strong>_

"MailShep"

* * *

><p><strong>From: KAIDAN ALENKO<strong>

**To: SHEPARD c/o _SSV Normandy_**

**Subject: I'm out!**

Hey, Shepard.

Listen, thanks a lot for coming to see me at the hospital. Sorry I wasn't awake to thank you in person, but it means a lot to me knowing that you cared.

Doctor Cox gave me a clean bill of health, so I'm ready to get back aboard the _Normandy_ whenever you can pick me up. I'll be in the waiting room when you do. Hope to hear back from you soon.

-Maj. Kaidan Alenko

_Message Sent - Three Weeks Ago._

* * *

><p><strong>From: SAMANTHA TRAYNOR<strong>

**To: COMMANDER SHEPARD**

**Subject: emails**

Hi Shepard, it's Traynor. I've had an idea for improving our internal communications systems, and after running the numbers by EDI she seems impressed. Basically, we want to teach you how to use the phone. You seem to be relying on emails to speak to the crew. It's... not a very big ship, sir. I'm sure we could up our efficiency (and security) if we could just talk once in a while. I'll be downstairs, if you'd like to discuss it.

* * *

><p><strong>From: JAMES VEGA<strong>

**To: COMMANDER SHEPARD**

**Subject: that shit was crazy**

Hey, loco. That last mission we went on? Fuckin crazy. Lasers and shit. Why don't you meet me on the Citadel sometime and we can talk about it. But _only_ on the Citadel. If you try and talk to me down here in the cargo bay, I won't say a word about this. I don't care what fuel prices are.

James

P.S. - I get the feeling that Steve Cortez... _you know_... has bad taste in women. Who marries a girl named Robert anyway?

* * *

><p><strong>From: SAMANTHA TRAYNOR<strong>

**To: COMMANDER SHEPARD**

**Subject: RE: emails**

I was actually right next to you when you typed that, sir. I'm... I'm at the next terminal over? Feel free to talk directly, whenever.

(I'm the British one with the dark hair?)

* * *

><p><strong>From: JACOB TAYLOR<strong>

**To: BRYNN COLE**

**Subject: RE: Dinner**

Brynn,

I just got that menu that you sent me. Turns out I _have_ been there before, and they serve up a pretty good meal if that's where you want to go out. The burgers are just okay, but the friiiiiies...

* * *

><p><strong>From: HARBINGER<strong>

**To: SHEPARD COMMANDER**

**Subject: [no subject]**

_You have received an invite to play **Farmville: Eden Prime Edition** from username: HARBY666._

_Personal Message: YOU CANNOT RESIST_

_Click the included link to create your account!_

* * *

><p><strong>From: ARIA T'LOAK<strong>

**To: COMMANDER "T&F" SHEPARD**

**Subject: [no subject]**

Shepard, the DJ here just played this song and it totally reminded me of you. Check it out.

_And I think it's gonna be a long, long time_

_'Til touchdown brings me 'round again to find_

_I'm not the man they think I am at home._

_Oh, no, no, no!_

_I'm a ROCKET MAN!_

* * *

><p><strong>From: PRESIDIUM SHOE &amp; BOOT<strong>

**To: LEGION**

**Subject: [no subject]**

Does this unit have a sole?

* * *

><p><strong>From: traynorsam(at)rightnexttoyou(dot)com<strong>

**To: COMMANDER SHEPARD**

**Subject: HEY**

If I put it in an email, will you listen to me? I'm RIGHT HERE, about three feet to your right. Can you hear this loud typing noise? That's me, typing this. TAP. TAP. TAP.

I was just trying to say that Engineer Adams wanted a word with you, that's all. I wish him luck.

* * *

><p><strong>From: DETECTIVE CHELLICK<strong>

**To: COMMANDER SHEPARD c/o _SSV Normandy_**

**Re: Dead Fish**

Commander Shepard-

For the last time, please stop submitting reports to us concerning your dead fish. There was no foul play involved; they were not murdered, nor were they in any way involved in an aquatic suicide cult. They died of starvation. This is the fourth report we've received from you in as many weeks. Please stop wasting our time and start feeding your pets.

Detective Chellick

Citadel Security

P.S. - And please stop filing missing persons reports for your space hamster, as well.

* * *

><p><strong>From: GARRUS VAKARIAN<strong>

**To: TALI'ZORAH VAS NORMANDY**

**Re: You'll regret this.**

Okay, Tali, you can't say I didn't warn you. Remember, I wrote _one_ song when I was on Omega—out of boredom. I don't know why you keep calling me a songwriter, but I'm about to prove you wrong here.

Here it goes. Try not to throw up inside your visor.

—

_From Palaven to Mars_

_'Tween a trillion stars_

_There's not one as lovely as you._

_—_

_We'd both rather go_

_Dextro-amino_

_Than end up face down in a loo._

_—_

_Let the Reapers come fight,_

_Set the planets alight!_

_By your laughter, you never can tell it._

_—_

_Though your face can't be seen,_

_You're always in my dreams._

_So, you might say it's love at first helmet._

_—_

That's all you're getting out of me. Promising you'll take your helmet off isn't gonna work on me again. Fool me twenty times, shame on you.

Love,

Garrus

* * *

><p><strong>From: JACOB TAYLOR<strong>

**To: BRYNN COLE**

**Subject: RE: RE: Dinner**

Yeah, the burgers are on the expensive side, but the siiiiiiize...

* * *

><p><strong>From: JACOB TAYLOR<strong>

**To: BRYNN COLE**

**Subject: RE: RE: RE: Dinner**

Stop doing what?

* * *

><p><strong>From: CARTH ONASI<strong>

**To: KAIDAN ALENKO c/o Citadel Embassies**

**Subject: [no subject]**

Okay, that does it. I can't go one day anymore without someone telling me that we sound alike. Meet me on Telos, and we'll settle this once and for all.

-Admiral Carth Onasi

* * *

><p><strong>From: DIANA ALLERS<strong>

**To: COMMANDER SHEPARD**

**Subject: Commander Shepard? Excuse me, Commander SHEPard?**

I'm just going to keep standing here until you let me onboard. Every time you walk past I'm going to yell at you from across the room and it will EMBARRASS US BOTH, Commander. Don't pretend you can't hear me. I'm not even going to change my rubber dress.

You like that, Shepard? Rubber dress? Getting' all hot and **[REDACTED c/o S. Traynor]**

* * *

><p><strong>From: COMMANDER SHEPARD<strong>

**To: SAMANTHA TRAYNOR**

**Subject: RE: emails**

Who is this?

* * *

><p><strong>From: DIANA ALLERS<strong>

**To: EMILY WONG**

**Subject: Don't move**

You just keep quiet. I already promised I'll return your identity, just as soon as I'm onboard that ship. In the meantime, you stay low and keep quiet, and keep getting me access to your security. You'll see your family again, as long as you stay in that basement and SAY NOTHING...

By the way, how do you work this camera? I can't get it off 'shaky mode'.

* * *

><p><strong>From: HENRY LAWSON<strong>

**To: MIRANDA LAWSON**

**Subject: You cannot hide forever.**

Give yourself to the Reapers. It's the only way you can save your friends. Yes, your Facebook betrays you. Your feelings for them are strong. Especially for... _sister._ So, you have a twin sister. Your Facebook has betrayed her, too. Shepard was wise to hide her from me. Now his failure is complete. If you will not turn to the Reapers... then perhaps she _will_...

* * *

><p><strong>From: MIRANDA LAWSON<strong>

**To: HENRY LAWSON**

**Subject: RE: You cannot hide forever.**

NO!

Father, this is why I left in the first place. Stop quoting Star Wars every chance you get! I don't want Oriana exposed to this!

* * *

><p><strong>From: THE COMMANDER SHEPARD FAN CLUB<strong>

**To: COMMANDER SHEPARD**

**Subject: ShepCon 2186**

Hey, Commander Shepard!

Just wanted to let you know that we're going to be changing the venue for ShepCon this year. With the situation on Omega being what it is, a Batarian colony in the Bahak System volunteered to host it at a cheaper rate. Can't wait to see you there!

_Message Sent – One Year Ago_

* * *

><p><strong>From: JEFF "JOKER" MOREAU<strong>

**To: JACQUELINE NOUGHT**

**Subject: Hey, hey!**

What's up, Jack!

Just checkin' up on the old crew. Wanted to see how things at Grissom Academy were going. Hope all's well!

-Joker

* * *

><p><strong>From: JACQUELINE NOUGHT<strong>

**To: JEFF "JOKER" MOREAU**

**Subject: Zero**

Fuck you, Peanut Brittle.

* * *

><p><strong>From: JEFF "JOKER" MOREAU<strong>

**To: JACQUELINE NOUGHT**

**Subject: RE: Zero**

=(

* * *

><p><strong>From: COMMANDER SHEPARD<strong>

**To: NOT A CERBERUS OPERATIVE**

**Subject: RE: Kelly Chambers**

Thanks for your email, T.I. Mann! I ran into Kelly Chambers a few days ago on the Citadel, actually. Wasn't aware she had friends (not sure why _friends_ was always in quotes in your email, but whatever), or else I would've tried to get in touch with you sooner. I've attached her home address, her work schedule, a record of her allergies, and a list of people she trusts. You guys take these surprise parties seriously! (Again, not sure why _surprise __party_ was always in quotes.) Good luck with that! Hope she doesn't see it coming!

* * *

><p><strong>From: DR. CONRAD VERNER<strong>

**To: ADMIRAL STEVEN HACKETT**

**Subject: Catalyst**

Per your request, I took a small team back to Eden Prime to survey the site where the last Prothean beacon was found. Looks like your hunch was correct. One of the families living in the area had frequent contact with the beacon, however indirectly. Unfortunately, they were killed during the Reaper attack by Sovereign, but I found strange writings in their farmhouse, some of it in the Prothean script, though none of it was anything we weren't already aware of.

A point of interest, though: I found a diary left behind by the mother. It appears her son continually referred to something he called "The Catalyst," an object that he frequently saw in his dreams. There's no further elaboration in the diary, since the mother had written it off as a bad dream. But the son knew what the Catalyst was, Admiral Hackett. Disappointing, considering his fate.

It appears our chances of discovering exactly what the Catalyst is died with Richard L. Jenkins.

* * *

><p>Shepard scrolled to the end of the page. "Nothing really all that good in there, I guess," he mumbled. "I'm not sure how you can stand to do this all day..." He looked down and found Liara asleep, breathing softly, her head nuzzled against his chest. He smiled to himself; he'd begun to wonder if Liara ever slept.<p>

As carefully as he could manage, he picked her up into his arms and carried her through the all the clutter and all the light pollution until they made it to her bed. He set her down gently, pulled a blanket up to her shoulders, and turned away toward the door.

He still hadn't stopped smiling.

* * *

><p><em>Note: The emails in this chapter were co-written with <strong>Mister Buch<strong>. Special thanks to him!_


	15. My Kingdom for a Catalyst

"_Shepard... Shepard can you hear me?"_ Admiral Hackett's image leaned from side to side, as if he was looking for something. _"Shepard, this is Admiral Hackett. Please respond."_

Shepard continued hiding under his desk, doing his best not to make a sound or breathe all that much. His arms were wrapped around a scale model of the _Normandy_, which he had tracked down after a lengthy, casualty-laden campaign across several star systems. It was supposed to be the inaugural ship of his Glass Display Cabinet Fleet, but the port nacelle of the new model was just big enough to not allow the window to close all the way.

He had tried to force it once, but heard the terrifying sound of the model's plastic cracking and quickly aborted. After, he'd simply tried to ignore it and leave the window open ajar ever so slightly. But then he'd come back into his quarters, and that would be all he could see. That window. Slightly ajar.

It just didn't work! His model wouldn't fit, and that was that.

And after all that traveling.

Now, Hackett was calling to see if Shepard had discovered what the "Catalyst" was so they could proceed with their plans to liberate the galaxy from the Reaper threat. Shepard had been given more than enough time to find the device, or whatever it was. Weeks, in fact.

But there he was, under his desk, with the final battle for control of the galaxy about to begin in a few days—with no Catalyst to speak of.

"Please hang up," Shepard pleaded through a whisper. "Please hang up, please hang up. Please, please, pleaaaaaase..."

_"Shepard, are you there?"_ Hackett beckoned again. _"I'm leaving a message for you at your private terminal. When you get it, please contact me as soon as you can. We need to talk about the Catalyst."_ He was about to disconnect, when he suddenly seemed to remember something. _"Oh, and if you happen to come across the Citadel drifting around somewhere, let us know. The thing up and buggered off and we have no idea where it is. Thanks."_

The call disconnected.

Shepard exhaled.

The window of his display case creaked open ever so slightly.

"Goddammit..." Shepard stood from his desk and angrily shut the case, leaving very noticeable fingerprints on the glass. "Double dammit." He reached for the cleaner in one of his cabinets and accidentally dropped his model, which shattered rather dramatically on impact. Little spring-loaded escape pods popped out of the hull and rolled under his bed, out of reach.

He sighed. Loudly.

"Worst day ever."

A tiny Shepard figurine shot out of the model's wreckage and subsequently burst into flame, burning a hole in the rug. Shepard ignored it and went to his restroom to splash some cold water on his face. Hearing the running water relaxed him a bit, and he let his hands sit there under the tap until the tension in his form washed away.

He took a deep breath and looked at himself in the mirror. He looked old, very old. The stress of the mission had obviously taken its toll. It had also, apparently, fitted him with a dashing hat and a badass facial scar—_Ohmygod, it's Admiral Hackett!_

_"Commander Shepard!"_ Hackett shouted.

"What the f—! Sir! I'm sorry, sir. You, ah, surprised me."

_"I've been trying to reach you."_

"I told you never to call me on this wall. This is an _unlisted_ wall."

_"My apologies, Commander, but this is an emergency. Where have you been?"_

"Uh..." Shepard looked around. "Out."

_"Out where?"_

"Stepped outside for a smoke break."

_"Outside?"_ Hackett raised an eyebrow. _"You're on the _Normandy_."_

"Yeah... Yes, sir. This is probably why I couldn't hear your call."

_"Right..."_ Hackett visibly fought with the concept, but continued on. _"Commander, I just want a report of what kind of headway you're making with the Catalyst."_

"Significant headway, sir. Is the Crucible completed?"

_"Nearly. The vessel is spaceworthy and our engineers are going through the final surveys right now."_ His brow furrowed. _"Though the plans seem to have the male and female bathroom signs mixed up, so there's no real way to know which is which until you get in there. It's very awkward, and our engineers are thoroughly stumped on this one."_

Shepard squinted. "Couldn't you just switch the signs?"

_"We tried. The signs were, for some reason, tied into the main reactor. Switching them nearly destroyed half the vessel. We've been drawing some serious conclusions per the Prothean extinction from that little incident. They were not very wise in the ways of science."_

"I see."

_"Anyway, the Catalyst. Where are we on that?"_

"The Catalyst. Right." Shepard cleared his throat. "Hypothetically, let's say I _don't_ have the Catalyst and I'm not even remotely close to finding it. How much time do I have to work with?"

_"I love hypotheticals! Well, taking into account that you would have to have done completely nothing over the last month or so, which is very unlikely."_

"Very!"

_"And that you failed to follow up on the multiple leads that we and other organizations very plainly laid out for you, which is also completely unlikely."_

"Yeah, completely!" Shepard gnawed on his fist.

_"Then taking into account the various flight times between systems, the time we'd need to get prepped, mobilized, armed... you're looking at..."_ Hackett did the math in his head. _"What were you doing about seven hours ago?"_

"Why?"

_"Because _that_ was the point of no return with regards to you finding the Catalyst."_

"Oh..."

_"Yep! Seven hours ago."_ Hackett rubbed his hands together excitedly. _"So! You said you were making significant headway. I presume that means you found the Catalyst before the deadline."_

"Yeah..."

**-Seven Hours and Three Minute Ago-**

_"You know, I feel like I'm constantly in the wrong for speaking my thoughts. A blue chick can't come in here with that body and expect me to go along with the whole 'They have no gender' thing. On a lesser day, I'd take that as a swipe at my humanity."_

_ "Because they _don't_ have a gender, Randall. They don't have men. Why are we even talking about this?"_

_ "They don't have men, so I have to compromise thousands of years' worth of human evolution and somehow _not_ refer to one as a woman in their presence? I'm gonna stop you right there, buddy, because that ain't happening."_

_ "If and when we have an asari customer, they are literally in the Quick Stop for a grand total of two minutes. If you can't compromise your precious evolutionary process for two minutes, then you're an even bigger asshole than I had accounted for."_

_ "How am I the asshole for referring to an asari as a woman? I should be getting a pat on the back and some brand of sympathy with it. I'm a goddamn hero, Dante."_

_ "You're right. You're a hero, Randall. You insulted a woman out of buying a gallon of milk and a package of cigarettes. Well done."_

_ "You said 'woman!'"_

_ "Shut up."_

Garrus leaned over and nudged Shepard on the arm. "Hey."

"What?" Shepard asked. "Can't you just watch a movie without the need to make a running commentary?"

Garrus looked surprised. "You don't even know what I'm gonna say yet."

"Does it matter?" Shepard looked around the cinema. "Other people are trying to watch."

"They know what they signed up for."

"What they signed up for is to watch a movie in peace."

Someone a few rows back tried to shush him.

"Sorry!" Shepard whispered over his shoulder. "I'm the one trying to quiet him up."

"Don't apologize. Makes you look weak."

"To whom, Vakarian?"

Garrus shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth. "Space."

"Right."

"Hey, I was gonna ask you something."

"If you're gonna ask me something, at least attempt to whisper."

Garrus whispered the first few syllables, then proceeded to talk normally. "_Do you think_ we'd be good at running a mini mart?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I think I've seen _Space Clerks_ a dozen times, and _Space Clerks II_ a dozen more. All they do is talk about the stuff we talk about, and they don't get shot at. I feel like we should look into this."

"You want me to give up my command of one of the most advanced ships in the Alliance fleet and run a mini mart with you?"

Garrus shrugged. "Why not?"

"Just be quiet and watch the movie... _again_."

"I'm not letting this go. Mark my words."

"Well, I can hear you loud and clear, so I think that's a given."

Garrus sneered and took a drink of his extra large soda. "Just think about it."

"Oh, I will," Shepard said, hoping the turian would run out of steam—as unrealistic as that was.

"Hey."

"What!" Shepard exclaimed, much louder than he'd intended. He was promptly shushed by a few more patrons. "Sorry!"

"Hey..."

"_What_, Garrus?"

Garrus nodded when he had Shepard's attention. "We can call it The Shep Stop."

"God..."

"Or ShepCo. Something like that. Can't do much with Vakarian."

"Now _that_ we can agree on."

Garrus sneered again and turned back to the movie. "Uncalled for."

"Whatever."

"I'm trying to bring you into this business venture—business _adventure_, more like—and you're shutting me down."

"Well, you might not have noticed, Vakarian, but the galaxy probably won't be here much longer. And _some of us_ don't have time to set up a mini mart because _some of us_ are actively trying to save creation."

Just then, the alarm on Shepard's omni-tool went off. He quickly shut it off.

Garrus looked over. "What was that about?"

"My alarm."

"Why did you set your alarm?"

"I don't know. The reminder just says... _Don't froget_."

"_Froget_?" Garrus snorted. "_Don't froget_ what?"

"That's a... good question." Shepard looked at the omni-tool again, trying very hard to remember why he'd set the reminder. "I think it was important."

"Okay, we're narrowing it down."

"Shut up."

Garrus tapped a talon against his chin. "Was it to remind you to—"

"No, it wasn't to remind me to watch _Space Clerks II_ with you."

Garrus looked down. "Maybe..."

"And it wasn't to buy you more popcorn and/or soda. That's not important enough to justify this alarm."

"It's important to me..."

Shepard rolled his eyes. "_Fine._" He reluctantly pulled out his credit chit.

Garrus looked from the credit chit, to the movie screen, then back again. "But if I go, I'll miss the movie."

"So? Not my problem."

Garrus glanced down at his bag of popcorn, hurt. "But I need popcorn to watch _Space Clerks II_. I can't do that if I'm waiting in line without popcorn..."

Shepard cradled his head in his hands and reluctantly made eye contact with the turian. "_Fine!_ I will stand in line for you."

Garrus clapped his hands together and handed over the soda and popcorn bag. "Dextro-amino popcorn, extra butter, and a Mr. Pibb. And spirits save you if you get Pibb Xtra."

"They're the same thing, Garrus."

"They are _not_! They are _not_ the same thing!"

The crowd shushed him, and one of them shouted, _"They are too the same thing!"_

Garrus flipped around in his seat. "They are not! Who said that! Who's the Pibb Traitor! Show yourself!"

**-Six Hours and Fifty-Nine Minutes Later-**

_"So! You said you were making significant headway. I presume that means you found the Catalyst before the deadline."_

"Yeah... totally..."

_"Fantastic, Shepard! I knew Anderson and I could count on you!"_

"Hehe..."

_"Well, what was the Catalyst?"_

"The what?" Shepard asked.

_"The Catalyst, Shepard! What was the Catalyst?"_

"Uh, it's..." Shepard looked around his restroom for anything he could use to pacify Hackett. He spotted his toothbrush—the really nice one he'd stolen from Specialist Traynor—a toilet brush, a shampoo bottle, and a towel. He could probably get away with showing off the toothbrush, but it wasn't enough. He needed something more substantial. "It's, ah... It's a surprise, sir."

Hackett was taken aback. _"A surprise?"_

"Yeah. You'll have to wait until we get there to see it."

The admiral looked like he was about to lose his temper, then calmed considerably. _"You're damn lucky I love surprises just as much as I do hypotheticals."_

"That I am, sir."

_"See that you get here with all due swiftness, Shepard. We can't hold off this attack much longer."_ The admiral nodded. _"Hackett out."_ The image disappeared.

Shepard stood there, staring at the blank mirror. This time, it really was his reflection looking back at him—and he really did look old.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Commander Shepard is Easily Distracted<strong>_

"My Kingdom for a Catalyst"

* * *

><p>"I just need you to keep an open mind, okay?" Shepard said, leading Liara out of the lift and into the cargo bay. Her hands were busy, faithfully covering her eyes.<p>

"I will, Shepard."

"And not the _Let's have sex in zero gee_ kind of open mind. Keep it a little more grounded."

Liara sighed, disappointed. "All right."

"We have two hours before we arrive at the rendezvous, and I need something to hand over to Hackett."

"The Catalyst, preferably."

"Well, there's no more time to look."

"Shepard, I'm sure if we visit a few select places, we might get a general idea of what the Catalyst is. If we actually have it, you won't have to lie."

"I was supposed to have it eight hours ago," Shepard said.

Liara's voice hitched. "Oh..."

"Yeah, so we're moving off the Catalyst and figuring out how to get us off the hook with the Alliance brass." Shepard parked Liara in front of what he'd been working on over the last hour. His surefire way of appeasing Admiral Hackett. "Open your eyes."

Liara pulled her hands away and looked around the cargo bay. "What am I looking for?"

"Right here in front of you."

Liara's glance leveled. "This is just the Mako, Shepard."

"Yeah!" Shepard took a step back to inspect his work. "Do you think he'll buy it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you think he'll take this as the Catalyst?"

Liara rubbed a hand over her head and across her crest. "Shepard..."

"Yeah?" he asked, excited to hear her response.

"The Catalyst is a device that's possibly of Prothean origin—perhaps older—which would date back _at least_ fifty thousand years and would have to be enormous in scale to integrate with the Crucible as it's being built."

Shepard wasn't following. "Yeah...?"

"This, however, is a Mako—a downsized and outdated model—which you seem to have taken the time to decorate with flames down its sides."

"Took me an hour."

"It shows."

"Thanks." Shepard took what he perceived to be a complement in stride. "But you still haven't given me an answer."

Liara seemed to be losing her composure. "Do I think Admiral Hackett of the Alliance Navy will mistake this Mako with crude flames painted down its sides as the final component of a Prothean weapon?"

"Yes."

"Absolutely not."

Shepard's arms drooped to his sides, and he shot Liara a disbelieving look. "Really?"

"Completely certain."

"Damn..."

Liara took up Shepard's hand and pulled him closer to her. "Shepard, are you okay?"

Shepard couldn't help but be surprised whenever someone asked him that. "That's gonna require an... _odd_ answer."

"You tried, Shepard."

"Not hard enough, apparently."

Liara seemed to be preparing a counterargument, but gave up pretty quick. "You did go see a lot of movies with Garrus when you could've been out searching for the Catalyst."

Shepard conceded the point. "Yeah..."

"And you had already watched most of those movies, by the way."

"I like to see if I missed stuff."

"I know." Liara gripped Shepard's hand tighter. "You still tried, Shepard. You said it yourself: look how much you've accomplished. Sovereign, the Lazarus Project, the Omega Relay, the plans for the Crucible. This plan was never going to work if the galaxy didn't meet you halfway."

Shepard thought of the battle that Hackett and Anderson and the rest of the galaxy would be fighting, and the ways he might have helped. "Maybe if I had done things... If I just had more time..."

"Shepard..." Liara looked up, blue eyes wide and bright, and smiled. "Let someone else take it from here."

There was a moment there, when Shepard held onto Liara's hand as if it was the mission that had already slipped through his fingers. He stood there, a momentary invalid until he found the woman's gaze again, and all of his fears were washed away into a—

"Hey!" Vega's voice cut through the silence, and the cargo bay was filled with an awkward series of earsplitting honks that sounded suspiciously like Boston's _More Than A Feeling_. "The new horns work!" Vega stuck his head out of the Mako's window. "How'd they sound out here?"

Liara clutched her ear that had been aimed at the Mako. "Loud..."

"Fuckin' ay," Vega said, slowly taking notice of the hand holding that had been going on between Shepard and Liara. "Oh... are you two having a moment? Because, Loco, I totally respect that."

"We were, James," Shepard said, sticking a finger inside his ear, wondering if it had been damaged. "We installed new horns on the Mako, too," he said to Liara.

Liara nodded, snapped her fingers next to her ear. "I noticed."

"Think they'll help our case at all?"

"No."

"Okay, then." Shepard clapped his hands together, entirely abandoning the notion of ever finishing his mission. The feeling was strangely liberating. "If we're not joining up with the armada, I know something else we can do." He activated his comm. "Joker, have Garrus meet me in the cockpit and prepare to set a new course."

Joker's voice came back. _"Set a new course? We're not meeting up with Admiral Hackett?"_

"Not unless you've been holding out on me and have been in possession of the Catalyst all along."

_"I... No, I don't have the Catalyst, Commander. I have a pair of crutches and a fembot."_

"Great! Then I won't have to eject you into space," Shepard said.

_"I thought we already established that there aren't any ejection seats installed in the _Normandy_,"_ Joker pointed out, mockingly.

"What do you think we were doing while we were docked at the last station? That's when you slept, wasn't it?"

The comm was silent for a moment. _"You bastard! You wouldn't—"_

"EDI, confirm it."

EDI cut in. _"Ejection seats are functional and charged. Would you like me to activate them?"_

_"Goddammit! Stop trying to eject me!"_ Joker shouted.

"That won't be necessary, EDI," Shepard halfheartedly insisted. "Joker, prepare to set a new course."

Joker sighed for a long moment. _"Where to, Commander?"_

Shepard grinned knowingly at Liara and kissed her on the hand.

She smiled.

"Bring us full circle, Joker," Shepard said.


	16. An End, Once and for All

There was a vid screen to the left of the counter, right next to the candy bars, that showed a live feed of the battle still raging on Earth. Despite everything, Sword Fleet was putting up a remarkably good fight. It turned out that most of the alien species decided it would be in their best interest to join the offensive against the Reapers, rather than face extinction if they failed to call each other on their individual political bluffs.

With the fleet at full strength, everything seemed to be working out—aside from the brief moment when Hackett ordered a small Mako, painted with crude flames, to be plugged into the Crucible. When the Mako disintegrated instantly, they correctly guessed that the Citadel, now in orbit around Earth, was the Catalyst.

Shepard had been watching the entire thing for hours now, unable to tear his eyes away from the vids. The only time he managed to look away was when the register chimed and Garrus read the price aloud.

"That'll be twenty credits even, miss."

The asari tossed a credit chit on the counter in a huff. "I'm not your _miss_. Asari are not female."

Garrus tapped his talons on the register in an aggravated rhythm. "Fine..." he hissed. "I'd ask you if you want paper or plastic, but something tells me you won't be keen on picking one and sticking with it."

The asari gasped and snatched up the credit chit. "Keep your groceries, asshole."

Garrus called after her. "Have a nice day. That door's both an exit and an entrance, so I think you two will get along _great_."

The door slammed. Shepard started laughing when he was sure they were alone in the shop. "How many times is that today?"

"The tenth," Garrus said. "Give me some credit, though. That was the first time I lost my temper."

"Had to happen some time." Shepard started opening one of the candy bars."You did get into a pretty heated argument with that distributor when you told him you didn't want to stock Pibb Xtra over Mr. Pibb."

"I did the galaxy a favor."

Garrus picked up the bunch of groceries the asari had left behind and took them to the other side of the shop for reshelving. Shepard went back to watching the vid screen, but couldn't make much out of it. The battle was getting more chaotic and the reporters weren't able to keep up. He turned his head a few feet to his right and saw nothing but blue skies out the front door.

Shepard had picked Eden Prime as the place to start his mini mart, The Shep Shop ("Eden Prime's One Stop Shep Shop!"), with Garrus. It made sense in a lot of ways—financially, chief among them. With displaced beings crowding most of the fringe worlds, Eden Prime had become an interstellar shelter for thousands. The Reapers seemed to show no interest in the planet, but no one knew how long that would last.

Shepard hoped it would be until he paid off the business license he'd been forced to buy. Even after all his haggling and the resume of achievements he produced—with "Saved the Galaxy" somewhere near the top—they still wanted to charge him top price. Luckily, he got a slight discount for building the mini mart inside the _Normandy_'s cargo bay, since it then qualified as a mobile vendor.

They wouldn't even let him keep the pen.

"I hid that newer carton of milk near the back," Garrus said, returning to the register. "I want them to search for it."

"Your tyranny knows no bounds," Shepard replied, flatly.

"Makes you feel powerful. Like when you give people the wrong keys to the bathroom."

Shepard laughed. "Or when you let some turian cop aboard your expensive spaceship."

Garrus looked over, sharing in the memory, and chuckled. "Or when you help some grunt track down a rogue Spectre."

"Or when you decide to track down some Batman Wannabe on Omega."

"Or when you..." Garrus threw his arms up. "Why does everyone keep comparing me to Batman! I shot at people! I didn't tie them up and hang 'em by their ankles from a streetlight."

"You're right, Garrus," Shepard said. "You weren't the hero Omega deserved, but you were the one that they needed."

"Damn you..." Garrus perked up when he saw someone walk by the door, but whoever it was kept on going. Garrus relaxed again. "What was it like the first time you came here?"

"I think you put butter on the shelves instead of in one of the fridges. That was my first inkling this was a bad idea—"

"No!" Garrus gave himself a moment and cracked open a Mr. Pibb. "No. Eden Prime. What was it like when you came here before?"

"Eden Prime?" Shepard dug back through memory. It seemed like a lifetime ago: his first days aboard the _Normandy_ under Anderson's command. Days he could describe in a handful of words. "I thought it was a great looking place. It's a shame I had to see it only after Sovereign got to it. Not too many fond memories, unfortunately."

He looked up, spotted the infinite green of the garden world through his windows. "But that was the day it all began, you know? I took command of the _Normandy_, explored the galaxy with a ragtag bunch of soldiers and engineers and..." He had to laugh. "An _archaeologist_, even. You would think our lives would have no real reason to even so much as intersect, but not only did they intersect, they...

"I couldn't have gotten this far without you all. My life wouldn't be the adventure that it has been without each and every one of you." Shepard caught himself before he went any further. "To answer your question: what I remember of Eden Prime was that it was the start of something special. And if it has to end now, I hope it ends in the same way."

Garrus turned his head and wiped something from his eye. "It has been fun, hasn't it, Shepard?"

Shepard nodded. "It really has."

"Yeah," Garrus sighed, and joined Shepard in staring out through their front window, where the cargo bay door used to be. "That would really suck if, instead, you picked a color and everything came to an end."

Shepard winced, trying to process what his friend had said. "That was a very random thing you just said."

"Wasn't it?"

"Yeah."

Garrus nodded. "Yeah."

"In that instance, I guess it would be better if we—later on, mind you—got an additional ending that was more in line with what we're talking about here."

"I'd rather we just got it right the first time."

"Life isn't that fair." Shepard knocked on the counter. "Sometimes life deals you a good hand, and sometimes it deals you _Dragon Age 2_, or a weird pick-a-color ending."

"We have a saying like that on Palaven."

"But life can sometimes deal you _KotOR_, or even a series of events where I can honestly say there would be no Shepard without Vakarian."

Garrus snickered and nudged Shepard on the shoulder. Shepard nudged him back.

Next to the candy bars, the feed from Earth continued.

_"We're getting unconfirmed reports that one of the soldiers from Hammer has made it inside the Citadel. We're not sure who but it appears... Yes! The Citadel is opening back up! It's opening back up—!"_

_ "I'm here on the bridge where Admiral Hackett has just ordered the Crucible to be moved into position near the Presidium Dock, where engineers from Illium, Earth, Palaven and Sur'Kesh are in agreement that the device can be connected to the station's main power source—"_

_ "—where, as you can see, the rachni forces are now engaging the Reapers in the immediate area around the Crucible, attempting to fend them off until the device can be triggered—"_

_ "We're picking up another signal on the emergency channel. It seems that Alliance soldier, Major Coats, was the one who made it inside the Citadel, along with Admiral David Anderson... We're getting our first transmission from them right now, stand by!"_

_ "—the heroes of Hammer Squad are about to make their first transmission—"_

_ "—stand by!"_

_ "This is Anderson! We're starting our ascent into a separate chamber of the Citadel. If anyone can hear this, I believe this room is where we activate the Crucible. There's... I hear a voice... Coats, what is that! Get down, there's someone in here with us!"_

Silence on the channel for what seemed like forever.

And then:

_"I'm Commander Shepard, and this is my favorite Hidden Reaper Antechamber on the Citadel."_

Garrus carefully set his can of Mr. Pibb on the counter and turned to show Shepard his look of utter surprise.

Shepard gritted his teeth and looked away, embarrassed.

"Seriously, Shepard, how many of those things did you do?"

"I..." Shepard cradled his head in his hands. An Edenian Water-Filled-Rude-Noise-Making-Bug-Eyed-Mammoth on the other side of the planet exploded, making a hilarious rude noise. "...I don't know..."

* * *

><p><em>Special thanks to Mister Buch - author of <em>Mock Effect_ and many other stories that I am continuously in awe of - and the fine folks over at the Mass Effect Fanfic Forum._

_And BioWare, for (eventually/finally/thankfully) giving these characters the ending they deserved._

_Thanks for reading! Hope you had a laugh or two!_


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